Black Roses
by Wolfic
Summary: Tamaki Suou had always said that the Host Club existed to bring fortune to the ladies, and he was determined to accomplish this goal, even if it meant staining his and his fellow host club members hands in blood...........
1. Prologue

**Black Roses**

**By Wolfic**

**Prologue**

With a sharp, effortless tug, the blade slid clean out of the person's throat in one fluid motion, splattering the finely woven red carpet with tiny droplets of blood.

Taking a step back, the blade's wielder, a tall young man with short spiky black hair, was careful to avoid getting any of the gore on his tight fitting and pristine black suit. His expression was unreadable, obscured by the presence of a plastic bear mask of comical detail, a common item at any local festival.

With a tiny gesture of his wrist, he flicked the blood off of his katana, and deftly slid it back into its wooden sheath.

The room was a small quaint one, and wasn't anything to be expected of most mansion libraries. And while there was a standard reading chair located next to a fireplace as well as a few tall bookshelves, carefully lined with leather bound books, these served more as decorations to the ideal of what a mansion library should appear like. The fireplace was empty, unused for years and was currently occupied by a dead corpse.

The dead corpse, who was once neatly dressed in a black suit quite similar to his killer, was an older man, of considerable athletic build with short crisp hair. The source of his death was by the katana, which had expertly severed his head from his neck, causing his tidy expensive suit to be discolored with red.

And while his body was crumpled in the fireplace, his head was on the ground, having rolled next to even more dead corpses. Some of these cadavers were sprawled over the floor, the reading chair, a nice wooden oak desk, and some tipped over bookshelves which had scattered several nice editions of Edgar Allan Poe over the carpet and among forgotten weaponry of handguns and the like.

Their deaths were too brought on by the katana, which had cut off several of their limbs as well impaling arteries, lungs, and stomach organs.

The killer was not the sentimental (or twisted) type of person who watched the aftermath of his gruesome work.

With a swift business like turn of his heel, he walked to the door, a hefty construct of wood, and gripped the ornate brass handle gently with his dark leather gloved hands.

Twisting slowly, he opened the door and exited the library, making his way into the hallway.

The hallway was rather wide and short, brightened by several cheap fluorescent light bulbs that hung from the ceiling. A long plush carpet extended the full length of the hallway and there were a few locked doors on the both sides.

As the young man neared the banister of the stairs located at the end of the hallway, he was suddenly greeted by a young boy with short blond hair and a rabbit mask of similar childish design on his face. The boy's outfit was an exact replica of the young man's own.

"Takashi! Takashi!" The boy's voice rang merrily with joyous greeting. "Are you done already?" The young boy removed his mask to reveal a wide smile. Taking off his own mask, Morinozuka Takashi gave the young boy a warm look.

"Mitsukuni" He voiced softly, addressing his younger companion by his traditional name.

"Takashi is so strong!" Haninozuka Mitsukuni exclaimed in a happy voice, despite the fact that in the once homely living room behind the little boy, with its four sofas and tiny glass table, was littered with dead bodies, numbers of which exceeded the library's crop by at least double. Each and every body had their necks twisted as unusual and seemingly impossible angles.

"Eh? And I thought we would be the first to finish." Two indignant voices resonated together from above the duo. Turning, Mori and Honey looked towards the stairs where two young twins sat on the railings. Fox masks were placed to side of their faces. Their identical similarities were eerie, with only the placement of their masks to differentiate the two. The twin with the mask placed on his left side spoke up first.

"As to be expected of the Honey and Mori combo."

"But as a duo, I think we do a better job, don't you think so too, Kaoru?" the other twin cut in, his voice was playful and heavily sprinkled with a provoking taunt. A wide grin spread over his lips.

"I agree, Hikaru." An identical smile danced across his face as well.

However their jibe fell on deaf ears as Mori gave the twins a calm recognizing look, while Honey was all smiles.

"Waiiiiii! Kaoru and Hikaru are both so strong!"

Both twins gave each other a look that clearly transmitted their annoyance before sighing deeply at the fact that they couldn't get a reaction out of the two. Thus they decided to change the topic and switch on to their favorite target of teasing.

"Say, is Tono done yet?" Kaoru asked his twin.

"I don't think so," Hikaru answered. "Why is he so slow at this?"

"Now, now," A tall and lanky man with a bird mask on top of his blond locks gently descended the stairs with a smile on his face. "Patience and care is most important when servicing a lady."

"Whatever Tono, let's go. Kyouya-senpai's going to get mad if we take too long." Kaoru reminded him sharply, as he jumped off the railing, his twin brother Hikaru following suit.

Outside of the mansion was a large yard, with a garden of several cliché flowers sprouting from the bushes. A plain fountain that lazily spouted water was located on the left side of the yard.

Leaving the porch, the team of five made their way to the side of the property, and climbed over the red brick wall.

On the other side, waiting for them was tall youthful male with smooth black hair and studious glinting glasses. A fancy and most likely expensive, black limousine was parked against the sidewalk next to him.

Ignoring common greetings the man with glasses scrutinized the group intensely.

"Good," he finally stated, "None of you have ruined your suits."

"You think we would after the way you reacted last time?" Hikaru jabbed "You could at least let up on small matters like that."

"Need I to remind you that we are running a business, and I cannot afford to spend a considerable amount of money on dry cleaning bills?" Kyoya said, as he pushed his glasses up his nose. "Much less explain why these outfits happened to be stained with blood."

Opening the door, Kyoya stepped inside as the group followed suit. As the door shut, the chauffeur, Tachibana of the Ohtori's secret police, started the limousine, and it sped down the road, carrying the six males of Ouran High School's Host Club long out of sight.

The Host club was quite popular among the student body of Ouran and was established by the Host Club's president (who also claimed to be the King) under the sole purpose of bringing fortune to the ladies.

And while it was a noble cause, the king managed to realize that despite his idealistic notions, that there are certain things that cannot evoke fortune upon a woman. There are certain circumstances where a well placed comment or the sight of angelic faces could not lift one's smiles.

Suou Tamaki, the president of the Host Club, had sworn to bring fortune to women, no matter what the costs, even if it meant spilling blood. And with that mindset, this was how it began.

In the daytime, they were hosts, elegant beautiful men who suited the many unique tastes of Ouran's female students.

However, at night, when school was long out of session, when the moon shone bright and the darkness cloaked the sky, these beautiful men killed for money, hoping to see a smile, no matter how small or faint, grace their clients' faces.

They were great hosts, but even better killers.

The term assassin, mercenary, hitman, killer, or murderer could all apply, but they didn't care what they were labeled.

And thus they continued their business, not worrying about having to deal with someone finding out about their nightly dealings.

And that was when Fujioka Haruhi entered into their lives, and broke a rather expensive vase, an event that would forever tie them together.


	2. Chapter 1

**Black Roses**

**By Wolfic**

**Chapter 1**

If there was one thing Fujoika Haruhi had learned from the time she spent in the Host Club, it was that she should never question anything she saw in that room.

Strange costumes and unique decorations aside, there were many things she knew that she was better off not knowing, especially when they involved Ohtori Kyoya.

Such an example would be the rather annoying fact that Kyoya would sell off her belongings whenever he saw fit.

And so when Haruhi began to notice a rather bizarre series of occurrences that happened during the club hours, ones that were directly related to Kyoya, she decided not to question it.

It had already been several weeks after she had broken that expensive vase, and she was still no where close to paying off her debt. She didn't wish to have her debt increase due to a slip of the tongue or some mindless comment made out of curiosity.

Kyoya had always been a dominating presence in the third music room. Despite being the vice-president, he was the one that overlooked everything in the Host Club, while working from the shadows, thus earning him the nickname, the Shadow King. But even though he was a part of the Host Club, he was never a host himself. The only interactions he made with the female customers were to sell off Host Club merchandise or to see if everything was to their fancy.

But he never received designations.

Thus, it was only natural that Haruhi found it strange that there were certain days at the club when one of the female students would come up to Kyoya and speak with him. However the manner they engaged one another was not as a customer to a manager, but rather of a designator to the designated.

Although his time with the female wouldn't be that long, Kyoya always served them tea and listened to them, his pretentious host smile plastered all over his face. After a brief exchange of words between the two, he would then take out his notebook and write down something. After that, the student would leave.

And it wasn't just a rare occurrence. Kyoya would get frequented quite often. So much that Haruhi began to wonder why Kyoya didn't become a host himself, instead of observing from the corner. But seeing as how she had already decided against asking such questions, she stifled her curiosity. Besides, studying was far more important than getting herself deeply involved with club matters.

However, like most cases involving the Host Club, Haruhi often found herself becoming involuntarily involved one way or another, even if she never knew about it.

It was as if Fate enjoyed such coincidences where Haruhi would be thrust into strange situations where she would involuntarily learn more about the Host Club and its inhabitants, further tightening the chains that bound her to them.

And such an occurrence did happen.

It had been a regular day, really, nothing strange had occurred, except for Kyoya receiving another lone designation.

The rest of the Host Club remained the same. Tamaki was still excessive in his love for his "daughter" and the Hiitachin twins were even more excessive in their need to play with their "toy".

Needless to say, it was not a good day for Haruhi.

She had intended to study up for her tests she had the following day in that brief period before the Host club had began, however this plan was never brought to fruition.

She had barely entered the room before she was soon yanked by Kaoru and Hikaru in their direction.

Their method of capture?

The usual slinging of their arms around her shoulders.

And of course, then Tamaki arrived in an overzealous fashion as usual and began shout at the twins to let up on his precious "daughter". And by the time they had finished with their arguments, Kyoya announced that the Host Club was ready to begin, and that they had better get ready.

And the Host Club proceeded naturally after that.

Tamaki was ever still the ideal of a dashing prince to all of his designations. Hikaru and Kaoru put on the same brotherly love act as on routine, eliciting squeals from their fans that never seemed to tire of the usual act. Honey was busy eating cakes again, and Mori was close to him as well, keeping a watchful eye over his friend.

After the club was over, Haruhi had made a move to walk over to her bag, but the arms of the devilish twins snaked out and ensnared her in their grasp once more.

They asked if she had wanted a ride home. As usual, she refused. However, her refusal fell on deaf ears as they proceeded to drag her out of the room, her complaints not getting through to them. Tamaki made a move instantly to free her from the twins, who each had one arm around her shoulders, and the other holding her hands, but Kyoya's hand clamped on his shoulders causing him to halt.

And before Haruhi knew it, she was in front of her apartment, and the limousine of the Hiitachin brothers had sped off.

Here Haruhi was, at home, without her school materials, and several tests would be issued tomorrow, deciding whether or not she could remain a student at the prestigious Ouran High School.

There was not much deliberation on the problem as she quickly turned around and proceeded to walk back to school.

When she had returned to school, the sun had already set in the distance, and the sky a deep blue, with the moon thinly concealed.

As she had made her way up the stairs to the Third Music Room, she proceeded to open the door, but stopped when her ears detected the sound of voices.

It was rather unusual for anyone to remain at the Host Club after hours, but the probability of such a thing happening was still there.

However, Haruhi was never one to be deferred from her goals and grasped the golden handle tightly before forcefully opening the door.

The moment those doors opened, a soft breeze blew past her as rose petals whimsically trailed by.

But these were not regular red rose petals, but rather black ones. Thin fragile little beauties tainted by dark murky shadows.

But such changes over the colors of roses were trivial to Haruhi's attention, as she entered the room boldly, not caring to verbally announce her presence.

The moment she invaded the room, the talking had quickly ceased as the inhabitants turned to see who their newcomer was.

All of the male host members were present in the room, as well as a girl Haruhi had never seen before.

This young woman wore the yellow dress that was required of all female students of Ouran (those who could afford them anyways) and was slightly taller then Haruhi. She had long black hair that stiffly cascaded to her thin waist, and eyes that were as cold and rigid as obsidian. She was an extremely beautiful woman, and yet, at the same time, there was a presence about her that made one wish to back far, far away from her.

This unknown person was currently sitting at a table with little cakes and tea laid out, all of which she had not touched.

The male host club members were all standing around her, none of them choosing to sit next to this woman.

It was quite obvious by their reactions they were not expecting Haruhi's arrival.

Tamaki, who stood closest to the unknown female, looked at Haruhi with wide eyes, while the Hitachiin brothers, who were on the farthest side, located to the group's right, moved swiftly in Haruhi's direction.

The rest of the club members glanced at Haruhi with less visible surprise shown on their faces. Honey stood relatively close to the woman to the woman's left, and gifted Haruhi with a wide, cheerful smile, while Mori, who stood next to Honey, greeted her with his stoic gaze. Kyoya, who was standing behind the woman, didn't even bother to look up from his notebook as he was intently scribbling down something with a fine ballpoint pen.

And before anyone could say a word, the twins beat them to it.

"Haruhiiiii." Their voices rang with perfect clarity and unison as they slid into her view, adding emphasis on the last syllable of her name.

"What brings you to school so late?" Kaoru asked curiously, his eyes sprinkled with curiosity.

"Perhaps," Hikaru cut in, "you wanted to see us so badly, you came back to the school?" Hikaru playful grin got wider as his eyebrows made suggestive motions.

"Not at all." Haruhi's stiff reply caused both of the twins to droop in exaggerated sadness. However this playful ploy was easily seen through as a farce. "I left my bag and I came to retrieve it." Her voice was as deadpan as ever, only containing a thin layer of irritation mixed in. Already she was behind on studying due to the antics of the twins, and she was in no mood to be ensnared once more. Walking by them she headed in the direction of her school bag.

However Tamaki now served as her new obstacle, and quickly scooped up the androgynous student into a tight hug. "Oh, Haruhi! Daddy's so sorry that we didn't tell you about this! I swear I will tell you everything, so don't be mad, ne?"

"I don't really care what you guys do in your free time. So could you please let me go, Senpai?" Tamaki's long thin arms slid off her Haruhi, his face morphed into shock.

"You don't care?"

"What's this?' Hikau's voice invaded the conversation as he slid up next to Haruhi with Kaoru close by. "You don't want to learn about our club's secrets?"

"I'd prefer not to." Haruhi replied, taking another step towards her school bag, only having Kaoru restrain her with the placement of his arm around her shoulders.

Hikaru naturally followed suit.

"Are you sure? I bet you're just dying to know." The corner of Kaoru's lips teased into a smile.

And at that moment, as everyone could clearly predict Tamaki's interference of the twin's closeness to his "daughter," Kyouya intervened. "Tamaki. Hikaru. Kaoru. In case you forgot, allow me to remind you. We have a guest that we are attending to."

Kyoya's sharp voice cut into the three deeply as they gave Haruhi a sad look before returning to their positions. As Haruhi grabbed her bag and was already nearing the doors when her perceptive ears caught Kyouya's statement.

"If you ever want to know about this, just ask."

Turning to her friends she gave them a short "good bye" before leaving the room.

As she made her way long walk home, her mind went back to Kyoya's offer, and she wondered if she should have agreed to the offer.

But in the end, very little thought was actually placed into her consideration as she instinctively dropped the offer.

Learning another part of the Host Club would mean she would solidify her position in the club, which was essentially the same as ensuring the placement of her debt to them.

As she made it out of the campus, the sky was already a blue shadow, one that stretched so thickly over the sky there were no stars to be seen.

However, Haruhi did not fear the dark. Nor did she fear walking alone.

Haruhi had always been a straightforward girl. Never one to care about simple things, and she also had a very small opinion about the difference between girls or boys. She merely viewed them as the same. And she wasn't the type to get over flustered or frightened at all either, well, except for the unique case of thunder.

And that was why as she neared her house and several men in black suits appeared, she didn't seem to comprehend the situation very well.

The normal (and perhaps smart) reaction when suddenly crowded by men of tall stature, who all easily towered over the short Haruhi, would have been to run away. The decision to make a hasty exit would have been easily justified, seeing as these men wore the same outfits, professional suits, and had red masks on, designed in a manner most befitting of the devilish Oni of Japanese legend.

This group of obscure men was obviously something to be avoided.

Haruhi, however, didn't avoid them.

It didn't matter to her that these men were irregularly dressed (she never cared about appearances) or that they concealed their identities for most likely dubious purposes (she didn't place much importance in identifying people either). And never mind the fact that they all stood in her path, near well into her personal space (but then again considering her company at school, this was something she was used to).

But when the men all reached into their jacked to reveal the finely constructed forms of handguns there was certainly no reason to stay there and ignore the dangers.

Haruhi though, being who she is, merely gave them a single stare before asking politely "Is there anything I can help you with?"

The long metallic barrel of the gun answered her question as one of the men pointed his gun at her, and opened fire.


	3. Chapter 2

**Black Roses**

**By Wolfic**

**Chapter 2**

"Pardon the intrusion, Yukishima-san. We did not know he would come to school at this hour." Kyouya bowed his head slightly, his arms neatly folded behind his back. She turned her darkly hued eyes on Kyoya.

"I don't really care what happens, as long as you get the job done." Her voice was chilling, a frigid stiffness conveyed not only in her mannerism, but speech as well.

"Very well then." Kyoya open his notebook, the endurable smile still on his face. "Just to review, our target is your fiance, Himura Hayate, the eighteen year old heir of the Himura Casinos industry, correct?"

"As I have said before, that is correct. I don't know why you have to repeat yourself." Her eyes leveled into an irritated glare.

The woman that the host club was currently attending to was eighteen year old Yukishima Rin, a third year at Ouran High School. She was known throughout the school as the "Ice Queen," for her serious attitude that often left people with a reaction quite akin to those who experienced talking to the young yakuza boss Kasanoda Ritsu, who was titled, the "Human Blizzard".

Tamaki decided it was time for him to work his magic and bring a smile to this lady's face. "Never fear, Rin-chan! I, the King of the Host Club, shall ensure that your wishes are carried out. So don't fret." He added a dazzling smile to emphasize his sincerity.

"I'm not in any sort of emotional imbalance, so please get out of my face." The sharpness of her response caused the Hitachiin brothers to rub their arms at her frosty tone. Tamaki's reaction however was far more exaggerated as he had been frozen stiff. He made no movement from his strange statuesque behavior so the twins took the icy form of Tamaki away.

"I apologized for displeasing you," Kyoya apologized once more, "But we merely wish to make sure we have the facts correct. Now your servant that you sent in to speak with me this morning told me that you had already paid the amount necessary, so I wish to do my best at ensuring your request is fulfilled."

The matter of money had always been one of importance to the third son of the Ohtori family, and bringing this interest into killing raised several ethnical concerns.

How much does a life cost?

If such a question were to be asked in regards to an extremely well liked person, or someone who contributed to society, the answer would usually be that there is no price on a life.

But what about the price of a wicked person? What is the value of someone who belonged on the lowest level of society, a vile and disgusting person that reveled in their misdeeds?

How much for their lives?

Kyoya, always partical, would say that the price of their lives is negotiable, as there are different types of difficulty associated with each mission.

"Very well then." she replied.

"Ne, ne, Rin-chan!" Honey managed to retain his cheerfulness as he finished off a big piece of candy. "Why don't you eat some cake? It's good!" Such brilliance was in his smile that it would have compelled even the straightforward Haruhi into eating.

"I'd rather not. So stop annoying me."

Honey was soon on the verge of tears, as the response bit into him as harshly as the razor arctic winds. He turned to his cousin.

"Ne, Takashi, you don't think I'm an annoying person, do you?" The tears were now clearly welling up at the corner of his eyes.

Mori shook his head as he patted the head of his cousin tenderly.

Kyoya closed his book, making a deliberate sound to signal the end of the meeting.

Tamaki quickly thawed himself out of his still position, as the twin brothers returned to the table. "Alright then, we shall take care of this case tonight. It is getting late; shall we call for someone to take you home?" Kyoya's fake smile never left his elegant face.

"No need, I have a ride." She rose stiffly rose from her chair. Without bothering to give them a single word of parting, she promptly headed for the door.

However, she never made it, as the doors burst open and several men stormed into the room.

Dressed in dark suits of cheap fabric, these burly men had red masks worn over their faces. These thin plastic masks retained the menacing features of the two horned Oni.

However, before any of them could point their guns at anyone, Honey had already sprinted up close, with Mori close behind.

Catching the men off guard, Honey leapt into the air above them and tossed several steel kunai that he had hidden among his uniform. The sharp blades pierced each of them precisely in the hand holding the gun, causing them to drop their weapons in response to the small burst of pain.

Twisting his small frame, Honey tilted his body into a frontal somersault, directing himself towards the closest man in the group. His heel hammered forcefully upon that man's head.

Moving his foot slightly he shifted the contact with man's head from his heel to his sole of his foot.

Using this single leg, Honey pushed himself off of the unconscious man, propelling himself closer into the circle.

Spreading his legs, Honey lashed out, connecting two powerful kicks straight into the faces of two other men, causing their feeble masks to crumple, and their noses to shatter, streaming thin trails of blood.

Flipping his straight body into a back flip, Honey landed on his feet, quickly shifting himself into a low leg sweep, toppling yet another of the red mask wearing intruders. The man's body tumbled rather unceremoniously, as Honey met the collapsing body, directing his elbow straight into the man's spine.

Throwing the heavy body off of him, Honey soon initiated a backwards slide on his expensive shoes, avoiding the fist that was directed towards the back of his head. As the arm sailed over him, Honey gripped the wrist tightly and upended the person onto their back.

As the two remaining men still conscious plucked up their guns to shoot down the troublesome teen, Mori appeared behind them, grabbing their heads with his large hands, and smashing their heads together.

These two men fell among their fallen comrades, right next to a pile of three men Mori had dispatched rather effortlessly.

In the aftermath of the rather brief scuffle, the Hitachiin brothers gave off a low pitched whistle.

"Impressive as always." They praised in voices that matched together tone for tone, pitch for pitch.

"Did you kill them?" Kyouya asked, his calm stare inspecting the intruders intently.

"No, they are still alive. We need to question them." Honey spoke, speaking for his cousin as well.

"Yukishima-san," Kyouya turning to their disinterested client who didn't seemed much affected by the attempt on her life. "Do you know these men?"

"Not personally. I believe they work for my "fiance." Her lips twisted into disgust, as she spat out the word fiancé" with such intense disgust, it was as if some bug had crawled into her mouth.

"Kaoru, Hikaru, please ask these kind gentlemen why they are here."

Equally wide grins spread on their faces as the twins gave Kyouya a mock salute before glancing over at their targets. Choosing two men out of random they each took firm hold of a collar and proceeded to drag them into the dressing room.

"We'll be borrowing a room, Kyoya." They both voiced off handedly over their shoulders.

Turning to his client, Kyoya offered a suggestion. "Perhaps you'd be safer if you left. I believe those men were after our lives." Giving a rigid curtsy out of courtesy, Yukishima Rin walked towards the door without uttering a goodbye.

Tamaki went forward to open the door for her. Closing the door gently, Tamaki turned towards Kyoya.

"So, what's the story behind this one, Mommy?"

"Although she didn't disclose the information to us, I had her servant tell me." The malevolent bright glint of Kyoya's glasses left Tamaki's curious mind wondering about Kyoya's persuasive tactics. "Apparently Himura Hayate is a womanizer, and likes to frequent the red light district often. He's also very loose with his money. Thus one can deduce that he is in this marriage for several personal reasons."

Kyoya paused in his speech as a loud scream came from the dressing room. As soon as it had begun, it stopped. Rather abruptly.

Kyoya returned to his explanation, clearly not disturbed by the pitiful wail.

"One such reason is that he can gain a pretty wife. The other reason is most likely the money gained from marrying the heiress of the Yukishima frozen products industry. However, he is also smart enough to make sure neither his parents nor the parents of his fiancé know of his sinful pastimes."

With a loud slam, the dressing room door burst open as the Hitachiin twins dashed out of the dressing room, panicked expressions sketched alarmingly on their faces. They had chose to forgo their usual uniforms and were now garbed similar to the men they had interrogated. The symbolic red masks were worn on the sides of their faces.

Not stopping they ran around the rest of the club members and headed for the exit. Kaoru managed a rushed message as he ran by. "They sent men after Haruhi!"

And then they were gone, already sprinting down the hallway.

Honey, Mori, and Tamaki barely glanced at one other as the message sank in and they too followed pursuit of the twins, leaving an amused Kyoya behind.

Glancing around the empty music room, he smiled. However, this was not one of his trademark fake host smiles or the smile he frequently used to make "friends". It was a rather chilling smile that relayed the message that Kyoya had a deeper knowledge of the situation than the rest of the club.

Reaching into his pocket, he plucked out his cell phone, and light tapped a button he had assigned a phone number to as speed dial.

"Tachibana," he spoke into the receiver, "we had some intruders in our Host room, please send a team over to dispose of them. Also, I would also like to request a limousine." Hanging up the phone, Kyoya decided it was time to join the rest of his Host members.

With a professional stride that showed no nuances of anxiety or any other annoyance for that matter, Kyoya exited the room through the slightly jarred door, making sure to shut it behind him.

* * *

Although Hikaru and Kaoru were the ones who had a head start, Honey's small, nimble body, conditioned through years of martial arts, soon passed the two urgent twins.

With their concern driving them, it took no time for them to run out of the school campus and make their way to Haruhi's neighborhood.

After a few streets, they quickly turned a corner, and Haruhi's apartment sharply came into view. This was accompanied by the horrible sight of Haruhi surrounded by several familiar looking men.

From the crispness of their dark suits to the dull sheen of the red masks under the streetlight, these men were strangely identical to the assassins in the third music room.

The man closest to Haruhi, held a gun with a silencer attached firmly, directly the slim barrel into Haruhi's face.

As Honey quickly ran towards the men, the man pulled the trigger.

And missed his target completely.

By the time the trigger was pulled, Haruhi had already shifted out of the way and the bullet ended up in a nearby wall.

Dropping her bag Haruhi positioned herself next to the man's side and gripped the man's gun arm firmly with both hands.

Before the man even knew what had happened, Haruhi had already applied pressure against his elbow with the palm of her hand and snapped the man's arm. The intense sensation in his arm barely had time to register to the man, as Haruhi lifted his body off his feet and tossed him back onto the hard cement floor.

Quickly picking up the fallen gun, Haruhi turned to the rest of the assailants and rapidly fired off bullets, slightly altering the aim with each shot. Each bullet managed to hit the wrists of the gunmen, with the resulting pain causing them to lose their grips on their weapons.

Training her gun on these now weaponless men, Haruhi's face was as blank as any mask.

Then she heard her name being shouted.

A loud mixture of "Haruhi" "Haru-chan" and "my daughter" came from behind her, and she didn't have to turn around to know who they were.

Honey darted past her and jumped into the air, directing the destructive force of his knees into several faces, as Mori subdued the remainder of the assailants with well placed chops from the blunt edge of his hand.

Now that there was no need for the weapon, Haruhi tossed the gun.

Soon she was swept up into the embrace of all her fellow Host members, save for Mori who observed silently from the side, and Kyoya who had yet to arrive.

"Oh my beloved daughter, I never knew you were so strong." Tamaki clutched the smaller Haruhi to his chest tightly. The twins however quickly snatched her away by her shoulders and gave her their own type of hug, with one twin at each side. .

"Ne, Haruhi, there's more to you then meets the eye, huh." Hikaru praised, with Kaoru nodding his head in agreement. Haruhi, meanwhile, gave them a strange look.

"Why are you two dressed like that?"

Flicking their eyes at each other briefly the twins grinned mischievously at Haruhi.

"It's a secret."

It was at that time that Honey clasped on tightly to her middle. "Waiiiiii. Haru-chan is so strong!"

"Senpai." Her annoyed tone cut through their happiness. "I appreciate your complements, but would you please leave me alone. I have to study for my test" But her words were easily ignored, so she turned to Mori and pleaded to him with her eyes. Mori was there in an instant as he plucked Haruhi out of the grasps of the Host club and set her down, while handing over her school bag.

"Thanks."

Mori nodded silently in return.

It suddenly came to Haruhi's notice that there was a certain absence of Kyoya's snide comments. Before she could ascertain Kyoya's absence, a sleek black limousine pulled up next to the group.

The door opened as Kyoya stepped out.

"Good job Haruhi on dispatching with the Red Masks." The all knowing smile on Kyoya's face only grew wider as Hikaru and Kaoru turned on him in anger.

"If you knew who they were, tell us earlier! And how did you know Haruhi could do such things!"

"Himura Hayate's father owns the Red Mask Casinos; therefore, it isn't hard to find that connection. I asked you to interrogate them just in case there is any additional information they have to offer. Plus, I am also on speaking terms with Haruhi's father." Haruhi twitched slightly at the last statement. "It is not unordinary to learn of Haruhi's abilities. Now, if we are done this these questions, we have some business to attend to." Stepping to the side, Kyoya opened the door to the limousine, his eyes expectant.

Mori was the first to enter, stopping shortly to ruffle Haruhi's hair. Honey contributed his parting with a warm hug. Tamaki, as predicted, wrapped Haruhi in a classic bear hug, while spouting off a large dramatic speech of the tragedy of their parting, which was cut short by the twins making sure to get in their goodbyes, which involved loose hug and hushed whispers in her ear.

Kyoya turning his gaze slightly on Haruhi, he smiled. "The offer still stands. If you are ever curious about what our secretive business is, you can just ask. I'm sure you'd be good at what we do." And then he entered the limousine.

The limousine drove away and Haruhi didn't bother to watch it go as she began to walk towards the apartment that she shared with her dad. She also didn't question the cars that she observed driving up out of the corner of her eyes. She didn't even break her stride as the sight of several men appeared from the cars to carry the bodies into their cars.

All she really wanted was to return home and study. She hoped deeply in her heart that nothing else would come and ruin her chances of acing the tests.

**A/N: Rin means "dignified, severe, or cold" in Japanese. Yukishima is a combination of "yuki" which means "snow" and "shima" which means "island", so essentially "Snow Island". Hayate means "smooth" in Japanese. Himura means "scarlet village". **


	4. Chapter 3

**Black Roses**

**By Wolfic**

**Chapter 3**

Countless buildings flew by in the windows, blurring together with the lights of the nightlife. Colorful neon signs and streetlamps hazily mixed with the noise of the people milling out about the streets, filled with the raucous noise of the cars and motorbikes.

But it was completely ignored by the long slim limousine that drove through the mix. The interior of the car was similar to a separate reality. The outside world did not matter to these six men.

Five eyes were focused on Kyoya who began to debrief the group on the layout of the mission.

"Himura Hayate is currently stationed at his father's casino, The Crimson Mask. This mission will rely on only four members. Honey and Mori shall be tasked with subduing the guards. Hikaru and Kaoru shall focus on singling out and getting rid of the target. Tamaki shall wait on standby with me."

Taking out a suit case he handed it to the twins. "Here are two Beretta 92s, they are already assembled and loaded. You have fifteen rounds each." The twins took the case, but they made no motion to open the case. Their faces were grim, and unpleased.

Kyoya easily ignored this small display of childish disobedience as he picked up the katana that leaned against the seat next to him and handed it over to Mori.

"Also, Honey, Mori, dress in these suits. They've been tailored to fit." Two neatly folded bundles of clothes were handed over to the Host Club pair. A red mask was on top of each pile.

As the two began to change their clothes, the Hitachiin twins maintained their unpleasant glare on Kyoya.

"Is something the matter?" Kyoya finally asked, his observant eyes noticing the closeness of the casino.

His voice was rather pleasant, as if he were a kindred soul, rather than an annoyed parent dealing with two abrasive brats.

"You still haven't fully explained Haruhi's situation." Their voices were mixed well with one another.

"If you must know, Haruhi's father, Fujioka Ryoji, was originally a bodyguard before he was married. His assignment was to protect Haruhi's mother. As you must already know, being a lawyer is a rather dangerous profession. There is always the chance of some criminal hoping to affect the verdicts in their favor through the use of bribes and violence. When Haruhi herself decided to be a lawyer just like her mother, her father realized that she would be placed in the same dangers. Thus he taught her how to defend herself." Kyoya glanced at the twins. "Now then, if you both are done asking questions, we are almost there."

As if on cue, the car slowly eased into a stop.

"I know you are all aware of this, but as a remainder I suggest you all refrain from killing anyone who is not the target."

The twins quickly opened their case and extracted their semi-automatic pistols. Concealing them inside their suit jackets they followed Mori, who had concealed his katana in the back of his suit, and Honey, out of the car.

The grand sight of a large casino slapped them in the face. The building was rather big, with an enormous amount of money mercilessly laundered on its design and construction. This much could be inferred from large red carpets that led towards two expansive glass revolving doors at the entrance. A large bright and colorful neon sign glowed on the front of the building, with the words written in a fancy font and symbolic masks on each side of the name.

There were multitudes of people spilling out of and cramming into the place in tiny droves.

As the limousine pulled away, Tamaki eyes watched the retreating backs of his four friends, the melancholic light in his azure irises twinkled.

"Are you sad you can't join them?" Kyoya already had his notebook out, scribbling onto the white pages with his pen.

"No." Tamaki sighed wearily. "Women are my specialty after all. I'm not so skillful in dealing with matters regarding men. I'm just wondering if I did the right thing in forming this part of the Host Club."

"You are bringing fortune to woman, are you not?" Kyoya's eyes remained downcast on his notebook.

"I believe so." Tamaki said his shoulders sagging. "But that does not make the doubts and regrets I have any less."

"Don't worry. They are skilled at what they do." Kyoya lifted his face so that Tamaki could see the sincerity reflected behind his glasses.

Tamaki didn't know if it was staged or not. But he never doubted his best friend.

Smiling, Tamaki returned his sights onto the passing city, and the conversation between the two faded away.

* * *

When the four young assassins had entered the casino, none of the current gamblers or staff addressed their entrance with even the slightest glance. Their attentions were far too drawn in by their obsession: money. Greed slinked its way rapidly among the hearts of the inhabitants.

The four did not stop to observe the casino, but kept walking. The professional solid postures of security guards were incorporated into their walk. Their hands remained straight at their sides.

Their eyes however were not so contained.

There were many different types of people at the casino.

There were those from the top rung of society, all rich in their own right, gambling merely to stuff more money down their overloaded pockets. Laughing at the misfortune of the poor, they only tossed more and more chips into the fray.

And then there were those who lived daily, groveling at the bottom of society. Their eyes were wide, desperate, and so full of hope that they could earn wealth through chance. Many however were nervous. Some bit their lips, others clenched their cards, and some few even broke into weak laughter. A few broke into straight out tears as the staff members scraped their chips and all of their earnings away from them without a single sign of remorse.

There were wooden double doors located at the far back of the casino, where two Red Masks took sentry. Hands folded behind their backs they stood like statues, their eyes sweeping the casino in regularly timed intervals.

There was no doubt that Himura Hayate was hiding in some room behind that door. Judging by his profile report, there was no doubt he was probably enjoying himself, with some latest catch of the female variety.

According to Kyoya's report, as an attempt to keep his activities secret, he would often come out to visit his customers. A small exchange of conversation or a handshake or hug among patrons. And if a well appearing girl manages to fancy his eye, he would extend a cordial invite to his exclusive VIP room.

Many gamblers were cautious enough to avoid the foreboding entourage the Host Club members formed, and so the group's short walk to the doors was rather short and efficient.

Keeping up the façade of professionalism they proceeded to walked right past the two guards and enter the room.

The two guards quickly stepped in their path.

"Wait." One of the men spoke first, taking command of the situation. His voice had a fine throaty timbre and rasped wherever he reached multiple syllable words. "I don't remember seeing any kid among the Red Masks. Who are you?" The question was clearly singling out Honey who seemed out of place with his friends. The other guard shoved his hand into the inner folds of his jacket, placing his large fingers on his gun. He waited for a response.

Honey stepped in front of his friends. In response, they closed around him, concealing his presence from any casino goers who happened to be watching.

"We were hired by Himura-sama." Honey replied without a moment's pause. His voice was controlled, expertly so. "And last time I checked there wasn't a height requirement for those who joined the Red Masks. If you don't believe us, then bring us to Himura-sama, and we shall have him verify us." Even the Red Mask could detect the challenge submerged behind the noticeable edge in Honey's voice.

Both the guards quickly looked at each other. The moment their attention shifted to one another, Honey stepped forward on one foot, using the movement to channel force into his clenched fingers with which he struck against the two guards' stomachs.

There was a faint wheeze of breath leaking from their started lips at their bodies leaned forward in reaction to the well timed attack.

Reaching past the two limp bodies, Mori opened the door and shoved the unconscious men inside.

To any on looking bystander, it had appeared as if a group of security guards were conversing closely in private. The small detail of the group suddenly rushing into the room was too quick for most people to catch, and those who did see it would think nothing of it. It was never a wise move to be too nosy in a casino.

What lay past the wooden doors was a slender dim hallway leading into to a bright large room at the end.

Upon their entrance into the large square-like room, the four instantly noticed that there were masked men all over the room. Some sat in chairs conversing with their fellow comrades, while others stood against the walls, keeping a silent guard. There were those that watched several televisions that monitored the events going during the casino, and others who maintained and cleaned their guns.

Apparently the room served as a makeshift waiting room for the Red Masks who were on standby.

However, the moment the four Host Club members arrived, all activity soon ceased and the Red Masks got out of their chairs and turned to address the newcomers.

"Well it appears that trust isn't a well known moral value around here." Hikaru muttered to himself. He kept his eyes trained on the men, who were slowly forming two groups, one who concentrated themselves in the middle, while another group thinned out around them, trying to box in the four strangers. "So what shall we do?"

"We can either play it safe, and put on an act, or just start attacking everyone." Honey eyed his enemies warily, noting their gestures and mannerisms.

"How about we flush out our target with some commotion?" Kaoru suggested. Mori silently nodded his head in agreement.

Tiny sounds echoed off of the uneasy silence as the guards started to load their guns with their gun clips. They waited for the four to make a move.

"You know…." Hikaru began, making sure only his friends could hear him. "It's never too late to change targets. Kaoru and I could get a kick out of taking on a group this large."

"We are better at taking on crowds. " Mori spoke bluntly.

"Alright, alright." Hikaru set, breaking his stiff pose to make a casual gesture to emphasize his understanding.

And then they split.

Honey quickly leapt into the air as Mori reached into the back of his suit and withdrew his katana. Kaoru and Hikaru responded by quickly pulling out their Beretta 92s in perfect, symmetrical motions.

Their opponents were completely caught off guard.

A small steel tube shaped item appeared in Honey's hands and extended into a long staff. Using the force of his fall, Honey channeled that into his vertical blow, a rather subdued attack that rapped one of the guard's heads, tumbling the man out of his consciousness.

The rest of the guards began to point their guns on the intruders, only to stop, in confusion.

In the short time that the Red Masks had been caught off guard, the four had already integrated themselves into the group. While Honey was the only one among them that was clearly detected as an intruder, owing to his small stature, he was too fast for them to follow.

Zipping around, anyone who trailed his gun barrel on him only found themselves aiming at their colleagues.

In a wide swing, Honey caught two guards by their ankles and used their disorientation to press them against several other guards. The group collapsed into chaos as bodies flailed against one another.

The outer group merged into the group, putting away their guns and settling for short combat blades. The other members quickly got the idea.

With a quick slash, Mori's blade gleamed through the air and cut the tendons in someone's knee, dropping the man to the floor. Using the end of his hilt, Mori hit the man's face, loosening a few teeth and prevented the man from getting up again. Spinning around to avoid a clumsily slash, he cut down vertically, splitting the muscles in the hand of the closest Red Mask, causing their knife to clatter to the floor.

"Kao-chan! Hika-chan!" Honey's voice cut above the crowd as he swung in a wide circle with his metal staff, knocking all the men around him straight off of their feet.

The twins, who had resorted to using their handguns as clubs, stopped mercilessly pounding the bruised faces of some men they had ensnared, and turned towards Honey's voice. They noticed the wide open path created for them and with precise movements in perfect harmony they detached from the group and made their way out of the room, though large plain double doors.

Whereas the front of the casino had been designed with luxurious splendor in mind, this portion of the building settled more for a professional and bland appearance. A broad hallway with dull pasty white colored walls and thin gray carpet, stretched out into various branching hallways. The lights were dimmed, throwing ambiguously shadows hazily across the walls.

A dull thundering of sloppy feet prickled their senses. Peeking around the nearest corner, they caught sight of their target, a babyish looking teen, lumbering towards them from down the hall.

The teens had expected discrepancies in their target's appearance, but the male they observed was a complete opposite of his public image.

The Himura Hayate that the public had known and cared for was an attractive teen with freshness in his grins and soft glowing kindness in his eyes. He was someone with the potential for the field of business. He always wore expensive suits in public, suits that were always prim and neat. His hair, though longer than to be expected of most males, was always straight and in place.

Nothing like this bumbling fool the twins observed before them

His dark hair was now curvy and mangled, with several clumps out of place. His muddy brown eyes simmered with annoyed anger as he stomped messily down the hall. His dress shirt was hastily buttoned, up with several buttons mixed up. His fingers struggled with his leather belt as he tried to buckle his loose slacks that interfered with his walking.

It was not hard to figure out what he had been doing prior to the scuffle.

Softly slinking out of sight, the Hitachiin brothers did not have to look at each other to know there was a large grin that was creeping up their faces. Their newest toy looked like he'd be able to provide them with some amusement. Nodding at each other, one of the twins quickly left the spot, while the other sidled up against the corner.

"Damn it!" Hayate cursed as he stormed down the hall. "I told those guys to be quiet!" Angrily turning around the corner, he almost collided right into an individual who stood in his way. Instantly leaping back in surprise, he took a deep breath to still his startled reaction before regarding the man before him. Upon recognizing the uniform and mask of his father's esteemed bodyguard force he broke into an infuriated tirade.

"What the hell! Don't freak me out like that!" His sweaty hands patted at his wrinkled appearance "What the hell is going on over there? I thought I told you all to be quiet!"

But the masked guard did not respond.

Hayate's mouth opened for a sharp retort.

And he never saw the glove fist that snaked out, striking his chin.

Head now snapped backwards, Hayate's eyes widened at the short stab of pain. Disorientated by the sudden assault, Hayate felt nimble fingers grab his shoulders and turn his body around, before relocating their position at the back of his head, getting a firm grip on a thick patch hair.

Hayate remembered briefly seeing the white pasty colored wall before his face went to meet it. His nose crumpled awkwardly against the flat surface, spraying blood over the blank wallpaper, like art spilling over a new canvas.

His breath hitched deep into his lungs as his head was drawn back cruelly by the roots of his hair, before he collided with the wall once more.

Again and again and again, he painfully met with the wall until his vision blurred with his tears and his mouth was wet from the salty rivers of blood that dripped from his damaged nostrils.

And then the fingers let go.

For a brief moment, when the pain subsided, Hayate felt relieved, and perhaps hoped that this torturous assault may be over.

And then a sharp kick to his side sent him onto the ground. Crumpled there, he slowly turned his aching head towards the masked man, the boiling rage briefly conquering his fear.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing?" Bloody spittle dribbled down his cut lips with every word. "You think you can get away from hurting me? I'm going to tell my father about this, and he'll make you suffer for this. You'll regret–"

The man's arm came up, and Hayate flinched instinctively.

Slowly, the man's hand went under his jacket and pulled out an oddly shaped object.

An object, that even under the hazy lighting Hayate could recognize as the shape of a handgun.

He didn't wait to see what the man was going to do with the weapon.

Scrambling onto his weary legs in a fit of fear, Hayate turned around, away from this strange man, and ran.

His legs knocked against one another as he lumbered down the hallway, his terror giving way into erratic movements.

Wooden doors blurred into streams of brown trails as he ran past them, his teary eyes muddling their image.

Following the carpet path, it curved into a sharp left at the end.

Before he could follow the hallway into its new direction, someone stepped out from the corner.

Another masked man now stood before him. Someone who was a perfect replica of the man Hayate had just met.

The same pale red tufts of hair. The same slim arms and legs that held a firm straightness in their presentation. The same terrifying gun held in one gloved hand.

The man lifted the gun and trained its barrel on him, aiming for his forehead.

An explosive roar pounded on his ears as the carpet next to his left foot was shredded. A dull bullet was now lodged firmly into the material.

Shrieking Hayate's body leapt back at the sound.

Glancing warily through clenched eyelids he noticed the gun in front of him had yet to be fired. The man's thin pointer finger still rested on the trigger.

But that didn't make sense to the befuddled Hayate. If the man in front of him had not fired the gun, then who did?

That gun shot must have come from behind him. Spinning around he glanced down the long hallway.

There was no one there.

"Wha–?" His jaw hung slack, as the half finished word of question dangled from his bleeding lips.

The sound of a small step behind him caused Hayate's body to stiffen.

The masked man behind him took another step closer, the gun continually aimed at Hayate's head.

The sound that poured from that barrel savagely tore at his senses. His ears rung as his blurry sight noticed the smoking barrel.

The bullet had flown past the right side of his face. The quivering in Hayate's body wouldn't stop. He had almost died

The masked man moved his hand so that his gun was right on target once more.

And Hayate fled, heading right back down the hallway he had just escaped from.

Another shot fired off, the bullet clipping the carpet at his heels.

He had to get away. Away from this strange gunman who stalked his frightened form with long soft strides.

If Hayate took a left on the next intersection, he could make it to the guards' room. There were guards there. They could help him. Protect him.

Veering in the direction of his salvation, his hopes were mercilessly crushed.

There, standing aligned with the corner was the man again.

Fearful eyes slowly glanced behind him. The gun toting stalker was no longer there. Now he was in front of him. In front of the door that would lead him to his survival.

The wall next to Hayate exploded, wood and wallpaper bits sprinkling onto his clothes.

Turning desperately Hayate ran once more. It's all he could do. Run and run and maybe he'd be safe.

Taking the second to last turn on that long complex hallway, he headed for the fifth door on the left.

His throbbing hands fumbled around with the doorknob before he finally managed to get the door open. Collapsing into the room, his vision squinted uncertainly at the sudden gloom in this dark storage room. His arms felt heavy and lifeless, hanging at his sides

The room was rather small, a somewhat large alteration of a usual broom closet. There were no shelves or cleaning utensils of that kind.

Just boxes. Boxes and boxes of weaponry stacked lazily onto one another.

Hands frantically felt around the boxes, searching and searching, until Hayate found what he was looking for.

Quickly grabbing a long chain of bullets from the opened box he promptly fed them into the Gatling gun that he had feebly unearthed from the containment. Clutching the gun as if it were another faceless lover of his, he waited in the darkness. His straining ears detected beating sounds coming from outside the room.

The sounds were intense, thudding and thudding with the unusual rhythm of his heart. The noise grew louder and louder, creeping upon him much like some deathly ill force.

He gripped the crank tighter, his knuckles white and the smooth metal biting into his hand.

Louder and louder the sounds came, until they briefly stopped.

Right in front of the door to the room.

Holding in his breath, he tried to still the noise that he was emanating. He hoped deeply in his heart that they would not notice him hiding in the room. He hoped that they would just go away.

The sound of the brass ornate doorknob turning reverberated around him.

The lean muscles in his arms ached and twitched from maintaining his stillness.

And then the door propped open.

Screaming a loud desperate cry, Hayate spun the crank in a frenzied motion, ignoring his body's protests.

Round after round of bullets were unloaded at the doorway. The lead bullets tore into the wooden door and the plaster of the hallway walls as the fanatical sounds of "Die! Die!" were expelled from Hayate's gaping mouth.

Bullets ate away at everything in his sight.

However no gun was ever created to contain an infinite amount of bullets, and soon the gun slowly began to run out of bullets, and the gunfire slowly faded. An audible click feebly emitted from the machine, the noise as devastating to Hayate's ears as the wail of a dying victim.

Scrambling from his position he began to clamber around, hoping to spot more bullets for the gun.

Two dark shadows fell upon his weakened, trembling form. Two people appeared in the room, each with a gun in their hand.

The moment Hayate turned they pulled the trigger. The bullets streamed through the air and tore into his earlobes, causing sizeable holes on each side of his face.

A wrenching screech tumbled from his lips, as he writhed at the pain. Clenching his teeth as if the stave off the agony, the best he could, he messily crawled over to a box where several pistols were holstered.

The next gunshots tore into the back of his knees.

Flaying around quite pitifully, Hayate spasm and moaned with the pain.

"Turn around." Two voices, so perfectly and strangely together, it was as if the command were issued by one powerful entity.

Frantically, he complied. His eyes widened considerably at the answer that was now displayed in front of him. "There are two of you!"

"Well, that depends on whether or not you are sane right now." They both returned, matching each other's tone and pitch sound for sound.

Eyes widening to the brink, he hastily got down on his knees and placed his hands firmly above his head. "I'm sorry if I accidently slept with your girl! Don't blame me for it; she was the one who suggested it first!" Drool and sweat dribbled down his chin as his forehead fell even lower, touching the cold floor.

Wet, piteous tears trickled freely down his cheeks.

"Oh really?" They replied, amusement in their voices. "If you had really slept with our girl, you wouldn't even be having this conversation with us." Their voices lifted, breaking into a singsong tone. "You'd be in hell, suffering pain and pain and pain again and again and again, all over and over and over." The evident malice behind their childish tune only frightened Hayate into an even lower form of prostration.

"Then what is it that you want?" This time he lifted his face, his moist eyes trying to search their eyes, trying to glance behind the mask for what may be sincerity. "I'll give you anything! Please, just spare my life!"

The two were silent for a moment as a pause settled in on the room.

One of them finally spoke up.

"How boring." He said, his stiff posture loosening. "Ne, Hikaru, do you know what we do when something gets boring?" His voice was now soft, casual.

"Of course," the other answered confidently. "We–"

They both raised their guns so that Hayate could get a good glimpse down the dark long barrels. Each of his eyes was fixated upon those shadowy pits, like corridors to whatever hell awaited him.

His ears were open, attentive to the twin's words. They were siren songs to him, strange sounds that drew him to theses devilish apparitions.

He could hear the words clearly as they reached him.

"Get rid of it."


	5. Chapter 4

**Black Roses**

**By Wolfic**

**Chapter 4**

The next day arrived in the usual manner. The sun dipped gently in the sky as the last traces of night vanished. And Haruhi, as per routine, was already wearing her uniform and getting ready to leave for school.

Satisfied that she had managed to get a fair amount of studying done, she opened the door and stepped outside. However, the moment she stepped out of her apartment that was when her daily routine was rudely compromised.

Her neighbors were gathering in the street. That was never a good sign.

In a small quaint neighborhood such as this one, it was easy to get bored with the usual everyday routine. That's why, as a habit, the neighbors always latched onto anything new that appeared in their neighborhood.

Such as an extremely irritatingly familiar looking limousine that was currently parked outside by Haruhi's apartment.

Gritting her teeth, Haruhi chose to ignore the splendid looking form of transportation and walked right past it.

However she soon found the arms of Kaoru and Hikaru wrapped around her own. Not a word of greeting passed through their lips, as they began to lift her small figure off the ground and carry her towards the limousine.

Now normally, Haruhi would weakly protest their ministrations of affection, but today she was already greatly agitated. The events that had transpired the previous night had already resulted in the loss of her usual study time. And to top it off, she had several important tests to take today, thus she had no time to be messing around with the Host Club so early in the morning.

Applying force to both of the twin's limbs, she easily slid out of their grasps and began to walk away. Easily matching her pace with ease, the Hitachiin brothers caught up with her and examined her in quiet interest, their beautiful matching eyes speaking all of their words for them.

"I'm sorry, but I have to get to school." Her words were curt, and clipped.

"Ah, you see we were just offering to give you a ride to school." Hikaru grinned.

"Rather, we insist you accept the offer." Kaoru clarified.

Now that she realized the implications of their plan, she planned to make a break for it. Her legs bent into a sprint but her light frame was surprisingly hoisted easily into the air by the strong arms of Mori.

"Mori-senpai?" she acknowledged with a startled tone.

Before she could even react to this sudden form of abduction, Mori had brought her over to the limousine door. As the twins opened the door, Haruhi saw that the rest of the Host Club was already waiting inside. Gently, she was shoved inside of the limousine and the door was soon closed behind her as Mori and the twins joined the group inside.

And then the limousine drove off, canceling any need for Haruhi to begin arguing against this unfair treatment.

Instantly, predictable Honey and Tamaki gave her their own personalized greetings, with Honey jumping into her arms shouting "Haru-chan!" and Tamaki grabbing her in a tight hug while doting over her in tiny whispers.

Easily removing their arms from her, she directed a heated glare in the direction of the one she reasonably blamed for the entire incident: Kyoya.

"Why have you abducted me?"

Kyoya decided to skip the greetings right away, as he leaned forward, his pale hands clasping into a neutral position. "Have you thought about my offer?"

"I don't really care about what you guys do on your free time. Can you please let me out so I can go to school?"

"But we are taking you to school. I just wanted to grant you a favorable offer."

Haruhi immediately tried to compress the bad feelings that were welling up inside of her. Such was the usual reaction to any situation that Kyoya began to request things of her.

"I decline." Her expression dared him to argue with her. "Knowing you, I'd probably regret accepting."

"Oh?" The amusement was quite evident now, brought on full force in Kyoya's voice, before transferring over to his thin smile and gleaming eyes. "Even if I said that by accepting my request, it would cut your debt in half, as well as earn you some extra money to pay off the rest of your debt?"

As Kyoya's smooth words glided off his tongue, Haruhi's ears perked. The offer was extremely tempting. He might as well have just offered her a year's supply of Ootoro.

But this was Kyoya. Any tempting and beneficial request was like a devil's offer.

The rest of the Host Club members watched with an increased interest as Haruhi's mind struggled to come to a decision.

"What is your request?" Haruhi finally managed after a long pause.

"After club hours, on certain days you shall do various jobs for us."

"What kind of jobs?" The bad feeling returned once more, this time in response to the word "jobs."

"Ah, but in order for you to find that out, you'd have to ask us what we do after club hours. But since you've already declined that offer, I can't tell you." The devilish grin only served to stoke Haruhi's irritation.

"Rich manipulative bastard." Haruhi muttered under her breath. The arms of the Hitachiin twins tugged her into a comforting embrace.

"Just except." Kaoru advised.

"You'll get to spend more time with us." Hikaru whispered softly in Haruhi's ear.

"Unhand her, you cretins!" Tamaki shouted as he pulled Haruhi away from them and clutched her to his chest.

Haruhi suddenly came to the understandable realization of what it was like to be a child's favorite toy.

Turning to Kyoya who sat there patiently while she was being pulled back and forth by Tamaki and the twins, she ventured another question. "How much debt do I owe anyways?"

"That's for me to know only. But…" Kyoya dangled his black notebook in front of her face. "You can always find out, if you want to try."

Even though his notebook was right in front of her face, and she was pretty sure she could easily grab it, the very idea of tangling with the "Shadow King" only made the uneasy feelings inside her intensify.

As her fingers flexed experimentally, as if testing the situation, the limousine stopped.

They were already at school. Haruhi's fingers stopped moving.

Getting out of their seats, everyone proceeded to leave the limousine, save for Kaoru and Hikaru who did not wish to relinquish their hold on their "toy" and Tamaki who did not sit well with the idea of handing his "daughter" over to a pair of devils.

Haruhi, however, wished to leave the limousine as soon as possible. The request was suddenly the last thing on her mind and she managed to crawl out of their grasps, and escape the limousine.

As she righted herself and began to make an effort to walk towards the school building, Kyoya was already at her side, his tall form bent slightly so his lips were a mere distance away from her ear. "I'll be waiting for an answer."

And then he walked off with a smile. He didn't need to turn around to know an irate Fujioka Haruhi was now glaring at his back.

Sighing deeply at how her life could never be normal, she walked off to class, dodging the swipes of Kaoru and Hikaru. There was no point in thinking about it now, she surmised. She should just wait until the club time arrived to give him an answer. Right now her tests took first priority.

As the day went by, Haruhi's thoughts never returned to Kyoya's request, rather, they were occupied with thoughts of her next test. Her schedule was rather busy, with test after test stacked up against each other.

And then when lunch time came around and she had avoided the twins hands for many uncountable times, her thoughts still did not dwell his offer, but rather on what she would do after school. She wondered if she had enough food left in the fridge to make a decent meal for tonight.

As it came time for her to report to the Host Club, it was only then that she began to contemplate Kyoya's offer.

Various thoughts swam about in her head as her body walked towards the third music room. After reporting to the room so many times already, she had already begun to head there by instinct.

As she stepped through the doors of the third music room, the sight of the six Host Members came into view. Haruhi felt her shoulders go in a slump.

They really don't give up on anything, do they?

The sofa had been relocated so that a chair was placed in front of it. Kyoya sat in the middle of the sofa, his black ledger open as he glanced upon Haruhi's arrival. Gently, he motioned for her to sit down in the chair.

Realizing it was more trouble to resist; she sat in the chair and waited for the other party to speak. And surely enough, they did.

"So, Haruhi, have you though about your decision?"

"Quit messing around and just tell me what you want me to do." Haruhi said, impatience creeping into her voice.

"After Club hours just stay after school with the rest of us and you shall find out."

With the short message delivered, he got out of his chair. As the tension dispersed, the Hitachiin twins, Tamaki, and Honey instantly jumped her and tried all at once to pull her into a hug.

As they scrambled for possession of Haruhi, Kyoya's cool voice cut in. "Our guests shall be arriving in one minute." Grudgingly they relinquished their hold, and separated from Haruhi and positioned themselves professionally. Haruhi made sure to do the same as well. It wasn't long until the door opened.

The time went by relatively quickly. With the same number of designations for her, Haruhi went through her usual performance. However, today there was a new face to the club room. A female student whose unique designation was towards none of the usual Hosts, but instead, towards Kyoya.

She was a petite and dainty little girl, with large innocent puppy dog brown eyes and luxurious black hair fashioned into a high ponytail. Her thin pale features emphasized her unique fragility. It seemed as if even the lightest and gentlest of summer breezes could even knock this demure girl over and shatter her into tiny broken pieces.

As common courtesy, Kyoya flashed his fake host smile and gracefully seated the nervous female, while putting a cup of tea and a cup of sugar cubes in front of her. In a poised flourish, he occupied the seat facing her, the warm smile never leaving his face.

They sat like that in silence for a few minutes. Her eyes kept darting around, focusing on the cup of tea, or the sugar bowl, as if she were hesitant to meet Kyoya's charming gaze. Kyoya patiently waited, his hands gently folded in his lap.

Opening her mouth a few times, she paused every time, the words failing to form. Under Kyoya's silent prodding, she finally did speak.

And Kyoya listened intently, his notebook forgotten as he responded courteously to her words, creating the beautiful illusion of his trust and concern for this weak willed female.

And the moment he had escorted the client out of the room, with a gentle touch on the small of her back, he announced in his authoritative tone that the club had to be closed early.

Picking up his notebook from its forgotten location, Kyoya began to write, crafting unseen sentences and notes. Pausing he plucked his cell phone from his pocket and pressing a number saved on speed dial. Quietly he spoke into the receiver, alternating hands to write every once and a while.

The ladies had long exited in their self formed groups by the time Kyoya was done.

Kyoya sat down at the sofa while the rest of the Host Club members congregated around him. Haruhi reluctantly joined them.

"So, Kyoya-senpai," Haruhi began. Kyoya regarded her with a blatant stare. "Host Club is over, can you stop dodging the subject now?"

The kindness in Kyoya's expressions leaked away as he glanced at Haruhi with his cold stare.

"We of the Host Club exist with only one goal. And that is to bring fortune to the ladies at any cost. Even–," Kyoya halted for a dramatic pause. "–if it means killing people." Kyoya mouth closed in a thin line as he let the message sink in.

"So you want me to kill people." Haruhi concluded. Her face was completely neutral.

There were no instances of terror or distress flashing across her face, a trait that most females would usually display, as so avidly depicted in several animes and shoujo mangas. Rather, her face was one of quite deliberation.

"Yes."

At that point, the Hitachiin brothers saw it was their cue to speak. Slinking up behind Haruhi they both leaned their weight on her sides. "What's with the bland response, Haruhi?" Hikaru questioned, his voice containing small traces of jest in them.

"Even for you, that response is unordinary." Kaoru added.

"I don't see any point in freaking out at unnecessary things." Haruhi responded.

"Doesn't it bother you that we are killers?" Kaoru questioned into Haruhi's ear.

"Or that your life may be in danger?" Hikaru whispered menacingly into Haruhi's other ear. A smirk crawled on his face.

"But I know you two would never put me in danger. And neither would anyone else in the Host Club attempt to do so" Haruhi declared calmly. Her smile caused the twins to clamp their arms around her tighter.

"You're no fun." They both intoned. "But we like you the way you are."

The slender arms of Tamaki drew them back as he embraced Haruhi in a hug of his own. "Oh, my precious daughter." He uttered with a vivid flair. "How strong your faith in your father is."

"So Haruhi, have you decided? Will you stain your pure hands for money?" Kyoya interrupted, drawing them back to the main point.

"You know very well I've killed before, Kyoya-senpai." Haruhi flatly replied. This statement caused Tamaki to leapt back in alarm.

"What! My precious daughter, how horrible it must have been for such a thing to occur."

"You're overreacting sempai. He had intended to kill my father, so I had to kill him."

"So I take it you're with us?" Kyoya's pen poised over a page in his infamous notebook.

"Might as well." Haruhi replied with a sigh, causing Tamaki, Hikaru, Kaoru, and Honey to swarm her in glee. Kyoya's expression however was impassive, as he scribbled something into the book. In the commotion no one could hear Haruhi grumble. "It's not like you'd take no for an answer."

"Very well then, let's get down to business." And immediate effect settled upon the Host members. Their childish expressions were stayed, held back by the professionalism that overtook their spirit. "Our client is sixteen year old Tsukuda Sayuri. Apparently, as her tale goes, her father was fooled by a Yakuza group into borrowing money and as a result he now owes them a large debt. By using her father's trusting nature against him, the Yakuza now wish to collect a large amount of money, a considerable sum that will no doubt leave him bankrupt."

"But if she goes to Ouran, shouldn't she be rich?" Haruhi inquired.

"That would be true in most cases. Even though, Tsukuda Ichiro of the Tsukuda Rice products company does in fact amass a large fortune, the problem of the matter is not that, but rather the Yakuza group that tricked him. The Yakuza group that is after his money is not one just one family, but rather a large organization formed of four different groups, each headed by their own leader. The connection binding these leaders together is that they are all brothers to one another. So although at first the debt may seem payable, if you multiply the sum by four, the price shall skyrocket, leaving barely any money left. And to further note, seeing as how she has already paid us for this mission, they should possess even less money now.

"I see." Haruhi nodded in understanding. "Does that mean she hired you to kill all four of them?"

"Yes." Kyoya affirmed. "Our targets tonight are Ken'ichi, Ken, Kenji, and Kenta of the Maki family. Due to the extremity of this job, there is only one method of approaching this job. If we were to single out one of the Maki brothers, the chances are the other three would band together and retaliate are quite high, and the resulting media coverage of this big publicity stunt would fall on our hands. Haruhi shall be in the mission to observe how things are done. We have no time to school her on how things work, so we'll go about it in a practical manner. We also do not have time for any luxuries such as psychological warfare. The four men are planning on collecting the money tonight. So the only option available is that we'll have to split up into teams and kill them in a straightforward manner"

"We?" Surprise was evident on Kaoru's face, "Does that mean you'll be joining in on this job, Kyoya-senpai?"

"If it is necessary."

"Eh, I'm more interested as to how you would complete the job." Hikaru furthered.

"Haruhi, my precious daughter!" For what seem like the umpteenth time that day, Haruhi found herself in the arms of Tamaki. "Would you like to team up with Father? I'll take good care of you!"

"Tono, we all know you can't fight or kill men very well." Kaoru calmly rationalized.

"So Haruhi should be coming with us!" Hikaru quickly pulled Haruhi in his direction.

"Unhand her you twin imps! Who better to protect her then her own father?"

"I'm pretty sure her _real_ father is stronger than you are!" Hikaru spared no expenses in his harsh remark.

"She should have her friends by her side." Kaoru concluded.

Haruhi stared at the proceedings without much interest. She was sure she didn't require any "protecting" of any sort.

"If you three are done arguing, and are worried about Haruhi's "safety" then she should go with the most capable member among us, Honey-senpai." The soundness in Kyoya's argument silenced the twins and self proclaimed king immediately.

"Waiiiii. Haru-chan, you want to be my partner?" Honey jumped onto Haruhi's side and wrapped his small arms around her body.

"Honey-senpai, I don't really care about who I partner up with."

Letting go of his friend, Honey suddenly went into deep thought. Even in deep thought, though, Honey still displayed a cute expression. Then he tapped his fist over his other open hand, a sign that he was done thinking. "How about you team up with Takashi?"

All the club members except for Haruhi (who was the most sought after person), Kyoya (who was quietly calculating), and Mori (who observed with his usual stoic presence), stared at the tiny Host Club member incredulously.

"Okay." Haruhi agreed, without much thought into the decision.

"My dear daughter, why? Do you not wish to be with your father?" Tamaki cried as he slowly sunk to the floor, his face was wretched with depression.

"Honey-senpai, I'm sure you have a reason?" Kyoya assumed calmly.

"Yep! Hika-chan and Kao-chan both work best with each other so they should obviously be a pair. Tama-chan needs someone skilled to look after him, so Takashi or Kyo-chan or I should pair up with him. Since everyone is worried about Haru-chan's safety, Takashi should go with her, since he's good at protecting people. So Kyo-chan or I can accompany Tama-chan. I'm sure Kyo-chan would like to since they are such great friends." Beaming a bright smile at the rest of the Host Club members, Kyoya let out a small pleased smile at Honey's wisdom.

"Well then, any objections?" Kyoya clearly ignored the twins and Tamaki's fluttering hands that spoke of their concerns. "None. Now, as we are only hired to kill the four Maki brothers, everyone can go and change into a different outfit and wear a mask or choose some other method of obscuring your identity. You'll have freedom over your outfits today. However, if someone finds out your identity, kill them." His tone was frigid and hard.

"Come on Haruhi." Kaoru grabbed one of her hands.

"We'll help you change." Hikaru took her other hand as the twins proceeded to drag her away.

"Haruhiiii!" Tamaki cried out but Kyoya firm grip on his shoulder drew him back.

"They are professionals when it comes to disguises." Kyoya reminded him.

Various loud noises, of struggling and knocking things around, came from the dressing room. One such sound was a loud statement that was quite audible to the waiting Host members as "I can dress by myself", which most likely came from Haruhi. The twins stepped out first, gliding in a confident stride towards their peers.

Kaoru and Hikaru were completely identical in their choice of clothing. They both wore black jeans that clung tightly to their legs, and a long metal studded belt that nestled loosely on their waists. A long sleeved cotton shirt of a dark crimson hue hugged their thin frame snuggly. A white short sleeved jacket of the similar fabric was worn over it. They both wore identical red masks that were designed with short horns protruding from the foreheads with a jagged black line for the mouth and two small holes for eyes. The masks were positioned on the side of their faces. Black fingerless gloves covered their slender hands and stylish black sneakers covered their feet.

"Pretty cool, ne?" Hikaru boasted.

"We look like a couple of teens going out to the city for the night." Kaoru commented.

"And now for our main attraction!" They both announced as Haruhi stepped out of the door.

Haruhi was garbed in boyish clothes to conceal her femininity, something that was achieved through the use of baggy dark blue ripped jeans, kept up by a black leather belt which had a chain hanging from it. She also wore a thin black hoodie and a black cap which was low enough to conceal her eyes, throwing shadows across her nose. The small hood was pulled over the cap, ending at the bill.

Tamaki let out a wail as he ran and clutched Haruhi to him while shooting off penetrating glares at the twins. "What have you done to my beautiful daughter? She looks like a delinquent!"

"Tono, why would we pretty her up when she is going to go into the den of the Yakuza?" Kaoru calmly rationalized with the energetic teen.

"Besides, she picked out those clothes. We just showed her the choices and how to wear them."

"Is this true Haruhi?" Tamaki held Haruhi away from him and eyed her from a close distance.

"Senpai, there is nothing wrong with my clothing. I'm quite surprised you guys would even have this type of clothing in stock."

"But of course, Haruhi. After all we make money off the commoners." Hikaru noted.

"So therefore we have to have clothes commoners like." Kaoru concluded.

"Will you all stop stalling?" Kyoya's biting words brought everyone back on track.

"I'm next!" Honey shouted cheerfully as he ran into the room.

"Does he know what to do?" Hikaru whispered to his brother.

"Maybe we should help him." Kaoru suggested.

"He'll be fine." Mori assured, placing his hands on their shoulders to restrain any temptations to help their tiny senior.

It didn't take long for Honey to dress up. However everyone, except for Mori and Kyoya, couldn't help but express surprise as Honey existed the room dressed in a pink bunny costume carrying a large bear shaped backpack.

"Honey-senpai…" Hikaru was lost for words.

"Perhaps we should help you pick out a better outfit…" Kaoru's expression mirrored his brother.

"Nope, I'm fine!"

"Don't worry, he knows what's he's doing." Kyoya turned to Mori. "Mori, will you go next?"

Silently nodding Mori went into the dressing room. Honey ran up to Haruhi.

"Ne, ne, Haru-chan! Don't I look cool?" He spun around in a circle for her to get a good look at him.

"No." she said, truthfully. Abruptly, Honey's movements halted. It seemed like even for a small moment his ears were going to droop from sadness. "You look cute." She finally admitted.

"Waiiiiii! Thank you Haru-chan." Honey hugged Haruhi tightly.

Then the door opened and Mori appeared. He was dressed quite similarly to Haruhi as he wore dark blue baggy jeans that were tugged up by a leather belt with silver chains dangling from the leather. On his upper muscled frame, he wore a thin blue wife beater that accented his attractive muscles. Random white lines sprayed out from all angles over the shirt, serving as a design. A low riding black bandana encircled his head with a large white skull pattern emblazed across the front. Two black leather bands hung loosely from his wrists meeting with his black fingerless gloves that partially covered his strong hands. A long gleaming metal chain hung from his neck.

"Mori-senpai!?" The twins uttered out in surprise.

"Mori-senpai. What……a nice choice of clothing." Tamaki worded awkwardly. "How did you pick them out?"

Walking over the Haruhi he stood next to her and said, "We match."

That phrase caused uproar as it seems that clearly the twins and Tamaki were not pleased.

"Quick Hikaru, we must change!"

"We should have thought about picking out similar clothing." The twins quickly made a move towards the closet.

"I claim the dressing room next! A daughter's father needs to look the same as his daughter!" Tamaki broke into a long dash.

"Enough." Kyoya obstructed their path into the dressing room. The impatience in his frightening gaze made them cease their movements. "We don't have enough time for you two to change your clothes again. A cold glare was shot off in the twin's direction. "And Tamaki," Kyoya shifted his focus to Tamaki, "I will not join you on this mission if you insist on dressing up like them. Now go and change Tamaki."

"But mother!" Tamaki entreated heavily.

"Now." The sharp bite in Kyoya's tone nipped Tamaki into the dressing room rather quickly.

Apparently the arctic quality of Kyoya's voice was enough motivation to urge Tamaki to quickly pick out an outfit, because after a series of banging noises and various smaller ones, a uniquely dressed Tamaki emerged from the closet.

He was clad in a long black leather jacket that hung unzipped and revealed his broad chest, while tight fitting black leather pants emphasized his long legs. He wore a steel studded belt as well as a spiked dog collar around his pale neck. Black opaque sunglasses nestled gracefully on the bridge of his nose. Loud clanking noises bounced throughout the room as Tamaki walked towards his friends, revealing that he had decided upon steel studded leather boots as his choice of footwear.

"Tono…." Was all the twins could say, as Kyoya eyed Tamaki like a fascinating piece of meat on a plate, deciding whether to accept it as it is, or complain to the chef. Deciding that there was no point in speaking to an idiot, Kyoya walked past Tamaki, who was trying to impress Haruhi with several poses.

Dressing quickly and efficiently, Kyoya was soon out of the dressing room. Deciding that it would look funny if he didn't match with Tamaki, he opted for black leather clothing as well.

He wore a sleeveless black leather trench coat that revealed his pale chest and he also wore tight leather pants, though not as tight as Tamaki's, and black leather boots that did not have steel plates over them. Serving more as a fashion statement than as its actual use, there were two black leather belts that draped loosely around his waist. As far as accessories went, he wore two plain black leather wristbands, black leather fingerless gloves, a black leather collar and stylish opaque shades that concealed his eyes. In his hands was a sword unlike Mori's usual katana and a plain black suitcase, quite similar to the one he handed out to the twins for their previous mission.

"Kyoya-senpai….." Haruhi and the twins were momentarily stunned. Tamaki's reaction however, was quite predictable as he lunged at Kyoya with open arms.

"Mother! You wanted to match with me! I'm so touched."

However Kyoya expertly maneuvered out of the way, and Tamaki ended up grabbing the air. Handing the sheathed blade to Mori, Kyoya then turned to hand the suitcase over to the twins. Placing the suitcase on a table the twins eagerly opened it. Inside were several sheathed knives and daggers. Identical smiles lit up on their faces. "Ah, Kyoya-senpai, we get to use our favorite weapons on this job?"

"Our main goal is efficiency and speed, so it is obvious we shall go with what everyone is best at." Kyoya answered. Then he turned to Haruhi. "Do you want a gun? I have a large selection of weapons that you can choose from."

"Somehow I think I'm better off not knowing what type of weapons you have in store."

"And you, Tamaki?"

"I'll go get mine." Tamaki quickly left the room.

"What about you Kyoya-senpai? Where's your weapon?" Haruhi curiously asked.

"Ah, you see, my methods of operation are a secret." Kyoya coolly replied, earning him a frustrated look in return.

As the Hitachiin brothers equipped themselves with their blades, Tamaki appeared again in the room. The sameness in his appearance implied that his weapons were concealed as well.

"Alright then, now that everyone is prepared, here is the schedule." Kyoya started, gathering everyone's attention. "It is currently 7:30 PM. The Yakuza don't plan on collecting until 12:00 tonight, and they will meet up at 10:30 to discuss their plan. This leaves you three hours to complete the mission. Tachibana already has the locations of the bosses so he'll drive us around to each of the places, where each of the team members will get off. Tamaki and I shall go after Ken, Kaoru and Hikaru shall go after Kenji, Haruhi and Mori-senpai shall take down Ken'ichi, and Honey-senpai shall take out Kenta. Any further questions can be addressed in the car."

As indicated by Kyoya's tone of voice, his patience was clearly strained, as he was tired of waiting to execute the mission. Picking up on attitude, the rest of the members did not raise any objections and left the room.

At the exit of the campus was a long sleek limousine. Tachibana stood outside, stilling his reaction to what his master was wearing. Opening the door for them, they all got inside. As the limousine started up and drove off, Kyoya spoke up in the attempts to answer any questions that may arise from the Host club.

"Allow me to explain." Kyoya started as the car pulled out of the school. "Ken'ichi Maki is the eldest of the four brothers, thus he was the most open to opportunities. He currently owns the largest Yakuza group out of the three, as well as the largest amount of resources. The second eldest brother, Kenji Maki, is the smartest of the four. He believes solely in business over everything else, and has the most efficient system of underground dealings. The third eldest son, Kenta Maki, is perhaps the strongest of the four in combat terms. A martial artist, he believes power is the key over everything, so his Yakuza members are all combat specialists. And lastly, we have the last brother, Ken Maki. Due to being the youngest, he was denied all the opportunities his eldest brothers had, so he makes up for this with his charisma. His group of Yakuza members consists only of those who pledged loyalty to him out of choice, thus making everyone of his members a deeply loyal follower. By looking at these statistics you can see the reason behind my choices."

The solid explanation stifled any burning questions that the members had. Each of them were now lost in their thoughts. It was soon that the limousine stopped in an alleyway.

Kyoya singled out Honey with his hidden eyes.

"Kenta is currently at his privately owned gym, it should be up the street."

Nodding, Honey opened the door and got out. Turning towards his friends he smiled. "Wish me luck!" You could almost see the bright smile behind the mask as he sprinted out of sight.

The door shut and the limousine resumed its drive. Silence was heavy in the air once more. Although they believed in Honey's skills, there was still the chance of death on any of these missions, and that fact was a heavy one. As the silence grew longer, Kaoru and Hikaru decided to attempt to break the silence by messing with Haruhi, however before Tamaki could object, as usual, the limousine stopped.

"Kenji is at his business building, it's the thirteenth floor. The one at the very top." Looking at each other, the twins slipped on their masks. Each giving Haruhi a loose hug, they exited the car and began to walk towards the massive building that stood in front of them.

Now there were only four left. Tamaki tried to struggle with the silence that formed around them. Kyoya and Mori were never really ones for small talk, and Haruhi never spoke if there was no need for it. He thought of making a funny statement but none came to mind. So he just fidgeted nervously. Soon the foreboding stop came. However as Kyoya got up, Tamaki realized that this was his stop.

Kyoya quickly dragged Tamaki out of the car before he could burst into tears at leaving Haruhi.

As the car pulled away, Kyoya and Tamaki became smaller and smaller until they vanished from Haruhi's sight.

Now the silence was definite. Realizing she was alone with Mori who was the most mysterious person in the group, she watched his expression. If he showed any sadness or worry for Honey, he kept it well contained.

As the car halted, Mori got up and opened the door. Keeping it open for Haruhi as she exited, the limousine pulled away. They were now standing in front of two large wooden doors of what seemed to be the entrance to a traditional Japanese dojo.

Examining the surroundings Haruhi felt Mori place his hand one top of her head.

Looking up questionably, Haruhi saw that he was smiling, the serene calm in the expression reassured her as if to ward away any qualms. Now that they were ready, they both faced the heavy doors as Mori raised one gloved fist and knocked loudly on the wooden door.

**A/N: **

**Sayuri means "small lily" in Japanese. **

**Tsukuda means "cultivated rice field" in Japanese. **

**Ichiro means "one son" and is used for the firstborn child of a family.**

**Maki means "black pine".**

**Ken'ichi comprises of the words "strong, healthy" or"study" and "one". **

**Kenji comprises of the words "study" and "two".**

**Kenta comprises of the words "strong, healthy" and "thick, big".**

**Ken means "strong, healthy".**


	6. Chapter 5

**Black Roses**

**By Wolfic**

**Chapter 5**

The doors of the gym slid open with a loud bell like sound, and Honey, with energy flowing from each step, entered the building. Soon the chaotic din of the city faded away from his ears and was replaced by generic elevator music. A sort of whimsical and simplistic tune that one could tap their feet to while humming along.

The lobby was fairly small, and with a tiny unnoticed gesture of his head, Honey observed that the room was empty, save for four men.

One was a receptionist, a lanky weasel looking character with tacky yellow sunglasses and a slimy pale skin. His hair was slicked back with copious amounts of knockoff brand hair gel that gave his hair an unnatural greasy sheen. Sitting in a simple reclining chair, he watched a small TV set that was hung up in the top corner of the lobby, his bored composure showing his disinterest. Upon Honey's arrival he glanced up from the boring sitcom.

His companions, who had lounged on a gray beat up couch, responded in the same manner. These were gigantic brutish men with various colorful tattoos and menacing expressions that seemed to have been attached to their faces by default.

The one that stood up first was bald and wore a ratty wife beater and black sweatpants. He had been reading a magazine before Honey had come in. The other two, short haired men wearing gray sweatshirts and sweatpants had been engaged in a card game.

The bald man took control as he headed the inquisition towards Honey.

"Hey kid, you must have come to the wrong place. This isn't a place for brats." He crossed his thickset arms. "So scram." It was clear that he was the leader of the trio as the other two stood back and mutely observed the scene.

"Ne, ne!" Honey jumped up and down from excitement. "You want to see my Kuma-chan?" Slipping the bear shaped backpack off of his back he held it out to them. It was a simplistic backpack of fake brown fur; the upper mouth of the bear served as the upper latch of the backpack and clipped over the lower lip. Black plastic pellets were placed in for the eyes and nose of the bear.

"No we don't." the man spat. "Now get out, or I'll throw you out."

Ignoring the threat, Honey grabbed the upper lip of the bear, pulling it up to reveal the insides of the bag. Several small black and yellow canisters were tightly packed together inside of the small backpack. Picking out one of the objects, a black canister, Honey displayed it proudly to the men.

Instantaneously the aggressive expression peeled off the man's face as he, and his two companion's startled eyes followed Honey's hands as he tore off the pin from the now recognizable canister.

Placing the canister back into the pack, Honey quickly sealed the backpack, and threw it into the air. As the initial flash grenade exploded within the backpack, it set off the rest of the flash grenades and smoke grenades within, shrouding the room with several bright flashes as well as a smoky haze that settled around the room.

Using the trio's disoriented confusion as an opportunity; Honey shot up into the air and snapped one leg down on the group's leader. This makeshift aerial axe kick sent quivers through the man's body as he fell to the group limp. Jumping up once more, this time Honey kicked out with a severe scissor kick, each foot catching the other two men in the face, subduing the duo with ease as they fell to the ground in a crumpled position.

Then gunfire tore through the air.

Tearing into the wall, the bullet missed Honey by a wide range. The sound of the cocking of a gun signified the presence of a shotgun. Dodging out of the way, Honey managed to avoid having a section of his small body blown off, as such was the state of the chair that suffered the explosive brunt of the shot. Making his way over to the source of the gunshots, Honey flipped over the counter and dropped the receptionist to the floor with a painful aerial spin kick.

Then the roaring sound of feet rapidly clambering down the stairs pricked Honey's ears. Multitudes of muscle shirt wearing men from the upper level paraded down the stairs. Stopping just short of the first few descending steps, where the billowing smoke had yet to fully embrace, they leveled their hand guns at the smoky clouds that drifted over the room.

Patiently, they waited for a sign of a tangible target.

Then, a pink blur erupted from the smoke. Instinctively they all fired, but their bullets missed Honey by mere inches, as he fell upon the men. Not bothering to fight in such a constricted area, Honey proceeded to climb his way to the door, using the men's heads as steps. Kicking the old metal door at the top of the stairs off its hinges, Honey entered a spacious open gymnasium.

Bullets tore at the air around him the instant his pink bunny ears came into sight. Leaping out of the way, the spread of fire collided with the wall. Soon the men from down below joined the commotion as they too, began to fire at Honey. Fleetly, Honey leapt around the room as he avoided widespread spray of lead.

It would only be a matter of time before they run out. Soon enough, the guns in the room began to click with the sound of emptiness.

Hurriedly, they scrambled for their gun clips.

"Stop!" A harsh throaty command rumbled behind the men. All heads swiveled to address the speaker.

Standing proudly in a large fighting ring at the center of the gymnasium, was the speaker, Maki Kenta.

He was beefy man who wore a white martial arts gi that did little to conceal his rippling muscles. A black cloth worn tightly around his waist kept his uniform together. He had dark brown eyes, hard and solid, that flared with desire, a hunger for power, and the need to show dominance. He had short bushy black hair and a thickset prominent nose. A noticeable scar, thin and jagged, was splayed across his forehead.

"You dare to dishonor our gym!" he barked at his men. "You do not fight a martial artist with cowardice and guns, but with your steel fists and iron legs!"

Returning their attention to Honey, the men casually tossed their guns to the floor. Clenching their fists and popping various body parts, they broke into a frantic charge towards Honey. Soon Yakuza men flooded Honey from all sides.

Despite the fact that all the men surrounding him were at least twice his height, Honey was not cowed. Rather, he decided to use his small frame to his advantage.

As the first man came into view, Honey's small stature made it easy to evade the man's wide punch. Jumping onto the outstretched arm, Honey delivered a painful hook kick to the side of the man's face. There was enough force upon impact of his heel to knock the man off his feet, and careen him into several nearby guards. Using the body of another as a spring Honey then launched himself in the direction of the other guards. Lashing out with his small fists, Honey dispatched a few men with his rapid short jabs.

As gravity gently embraced Honey and placed him towards the floor, he quickly shifted his body and lashed out with a kick to the shins of another Yakuza member. This maneuver knocked the man flat on his back. A quick punch to the face placed the man out of the fight. Grabbing the hand of another attacker, Honey flipped him over his shoulder, right into another man, bowling both of them over.

Easily slipping through the large limbs that struck out at him in desperation, Honey twisted into the air. As his cycling body neared another target, his body flattened into a horizontal position for brief moment, his arms straightening. As he completed the rotation, his right foot, followed by his left smacked the man painfully. This repelled the man harshly against his companions.

With the momentum of the neatly performed butterfly kick guiding him, Honey went into another aerial twist, one that ended with him planting both feet on the head of one of the remaining men. The force of the impact sent shockwaves through the man's head, causing him to fall to his knees. Using the man's head as a stepping stone Honey hopped onto the head of the next man, and repeated the same technique.

In true rabbit fashion, Honey leapt from head to head of the remaining guards, tumbling them over, and clearing the field of opponents. It must have been a sight to seen. A child wearing a pink bunny costume hopping from head to head of several large grown men.

And there was little the men could do but attempt to scramble out of the way. However Honey's feet always managed to connect, swiftly removing the men from the world of reality. As his feet collided with the last standing man, he executed a graceful flip and landed with both feet together.

Feeling the heavy weight of Kenta's stare on his shoulders, Honey turned to return the look. Noticing the challenge that stormed in Kenta's eyes, Honey leapt into the ring.

Examining the older man with experienced eyes, Honey sized his opponent up. Although Kenta was of far greater size than even the Yakuza guards, Honey didn't seem too bothered by it. Rather he noted Kenta's large arm muscles, signifying Kenta to be a striker, mainly with the arms. His stance was clumsy, and thus Honey concluded that Kenta was more of a martial artist who favored strength than skill.

"You are skilled." Kenta's praise was short and rather dull. "If you have come for my life, I request a match with you. I have not seen one with your skills in a while. So please treat me like an opponent and remove your outlandish garments."

Out of respect to another martial artist, Honey complied. It was common courtesy as a fighter to let his opponent see the face of the one that would kill him. Removing his bunny head and unzipping his costume Honey threw them over the ropes and out of the ring.

Now that the costume was gone, Honey was revealed to be dressed in a thin, white sleeveless shirt and dark green, baggy cargo pants. His feet were wrapped in white wrappings, serving as his footwear. The two fighters made eyes contact as they stood away from each other. Walking to the other side of the ring Kenta placed a fist against an open palm and bowed. "I am Maki Kenta of the self created Maki Dojo."

Honey gracefully returned the gesture. "I am Haninozuka Mitsukuni."

As Kenta's eyes widened at the name of Haninozuka, Honey had already moved from his spot. Sprinting forward he leapt and twisted through the air rapidly, only breaking out of his spin when he neared Kenta. Striking out with a savage kick aimed towards Kenta's head, Honey hoped to end this battle quickly.

However, Kenta, though lacking of skill, was not so small of a fighter to be finished so quickly. Raising an arm in defense, he blocked the attack, but grimaced as the impact from the kick pushed him to the side. His arm fell limp and useless at his side, signifying that it was now broken. But the injury did little to faze him as Kenta took the initiative this time.

Charging forward, his eyes wild, he lashed out with a powerful punch that tore through the air. Jumping above it, Honey delivered another kick towards Kenta's head. Pulling his head back, the kick barely grazed his face. However the intention behind the kick was not to maim, but to kill. The intense strength behind it cut a deep gash to form across Kenta's face, spilling blood down to his white gi.

Ignoring the wound, Kenta turned his body and kicked out with his left leg at Honey, who had yet to land from his last technique. Honey, however, was no stranger to mid air kicks, and countered by twisting in the air and avoiding the kick. Landing on the mat, his toes barely graced the floor, before he rebounded off the hard surface and straight back at Kenta.

Realizing danger when he saw it Kenta shifted out of the fall. Following up his dodge, Kenta drove his available elbow down on Honey's head. Reaching up with both hands, Honey took the brunt of the attack straight on. The blow did little to jar his solid stance and he gripped the meaty arm and tossed Kenta over his shoulder.

Landing painfully, Kenta instinctively rolled out of the way, as Honey's two feet shot down, hitting the mat where Kenta's head had just occupied a mere moment ago. Scrambling onto his feet, Kenta maneuvered his body into a sloppy roundhouse kick. Ducking, Honey felt the kick lightly brush over his head. Running forward towards Kenta's exposed stomach; he jabbed out with a punch straight into Kenta's gut.

Tremors overtook Kenta's body as he spat out blood and saliva. The pain coursed through his body was something he had not expected to feel from such tiny fists. Breaking contact Kenta ran away from Honey and towards one of the four corner posts. Smashing his usable fist straight through it, he pulled out a loaded gun from the remains. Quickly tracing the barrel on Honey he fired.

The bullet had barely left the barrel before Honey ran up to one of the adjacent posts and broke the post as well. Pulling out the weapon, he knocked the bullet out of mid trajectory with the barrel of his gun.

Tossing the weapon, it knocked Kenta's gun out of his unaware hands. Racing towards his defenseless opponent, Honey sped right in front of Kenta and flipped into the air backwards, causing the toes of both his bound feet to collide with Kenta's chin. The action snapped Kenta's head back with a loud cracking noise.

Not relenting in his attack, Honey easily recovered from his flip. Scaling Kenta's massive body like a ladder Honey made himself level with Kenta's face. Snapping out with an arcing kick to the side of Kenta's face, the blow from the kick lifted the heavy set man off of his feet and into the air. Kenta's body now limp, spun through the air harshly, his neck twisting as the loud snapping sound announced the results of the match.

As the defeated body of Kenta plummeted to the mat with a muffled thud, Honey executed a perfect landing. Eyeing the body, Honey gave a short bow to his defeated opponent, before leaping out of the ring. Putting back on his pink bunny suit, he left the room with silenced lips as the clock hanging from the adjacent wall read out in beeping red numbers: 8:00 PM.


	7. Chapter 6

**Black Roses**

**By Wolfic**

**Chapter 6**

**A/N: First off, I would like to apologize for the long delay in this story. ****I know it has nearly been a year since I last updated, and for that, I am sorry. **

**Also, for those of you who have not checked my profile, I just wanted to alert you that I have edited all the chapters previous to this one, mainly due to a change in my writing style, as well as new creative insights with where I want to take this story. I would heavily recommend all to reread the story from the beginning as some scenes have been completely reworked.**

**However, I hope you will all enjoy the changes I have made.**

The city was chaos.

An area constructed of nothing more than a variety of things tossed around and thrown together and mashed up with a hammer. And from the mess, dripped off feelings of desire and struggle that puddles into a strange structure that provided balance among the madness.

Such a paradoxical existence was perfect for the terrible twins.

Casually slipping among the crowds of unfamiliar faces, mere faceless constructs in their eyes, the Hitachiin twins approached their mission was the very same lackadaisical attitude they held for a majority of things.

With one arm slung lazily over each other, they walked with a mild slouch in their posture, their shoes kicking the pavement loudly.

The business building that approached them was a modest sized structure. Tall enough to tower over most stores and restaurants, it was still too short to contend with its lofty metal neighbors. The door, an automatic, slid open smoothly as they approached.

As a habitual gesture, their trained eyes immediately studied their new surroundings offhandedly.

Within the few seconds that passed with their entry into the building, they were able to note some of the important details of the room that required scrutiny. Ignoring the several men that rushed with stacks of crisp sheets crushed to the security of their chests, they glanced at the one pair of elevators, the three windows, and the single door that most likely lead to a stairwell. The four trained bodyguards, with their large beefy muscles and stiff posture were the focus of their observations.

They were only allowed three steps upon the smooth marble floor before the guards reacted. Such a speedy response meant these were most likely innocent professionals without ties to the Yakuza.

Which unfortunately, were some of the Hitachiin's least favorite people to deal with on a mission. These people ranked up on their list along with "good" cops and paid-by-the-job mercenaries and assassins.

Too innocent to kill, and yet too skilled to subdue without a serious injury.

And plus they were just too plain boring to deal with.

Ignoring the heated stares that they received from the security guards coupled by the determined gaze of the female receptionists, the twins slowed into a relaxed gait as they approached the elevator.

The sudden tenseness that rippled through the meaty frames of the guards did not escape the twin's detection. Clearly when a bunch of no good punks stumble into a business building reserved for the elite, there was a justified reason to be paranoid.

Predictably, Kaoru and Hikaru found themselves flanked by the four guards, their stony expressions still as impassive as the others. Completely trapped in a rough circle, the twins found the situation quite amusing.

"What business do you have in this building?" One of the guards spoke up first. His eyes were like perfectly cut slabs of steel, neutral and unfeeling.

Instead of addressing the question, the twins tilted their heads and glanced at each other. Silently exchanging words between their gaze, they tilted their heads back into the straight position as they had arrived at a mutual agreement of sorts.

"Well, speak!" Another one of the guards commanded. His eyes were like rattling quarters, chaotic, loud, and broken up. Clearly he had lost his patience with the twins as one of his thick stubby hands stretched out to grab one of the two.

However, that was exactly the action the twins were hoping for.

Sliding small knives down their thin arms and straight into their open hands, the Hitachiin twins sliced out instantaneously, their actions well placed with one another.

Kaoru had dropped down on one knee and sliced the knee tendons of the guards while Hikaru, who remained standing, sliced their wrist tendons. Pushing the guards away from them, they burst towards the stairs.

Amid the screams of rage that came from the guards, a large cry of alarm came from one of the receptionist, a feasibly attractive young woman with curly hair who had kept her attention on the twins the moment the guards had approached them.

And then chaos broke out.

That delicious chaos that the Hitachiin twins loved to savor.

As one of the receptionists quickly picked up their phones to dial for security, with the other pushing the alarm, the businessmen in the lobby rushed for the door, their important papers forgotten in their fearful exit.

But the twins were already gone by then.

Legs pumping, they climbed the spiraling stairwell two steps at a time.

As they broke past the third story of the thirteen story building, a single bullet struck sharply against the railing.

A sea of black suit wearing men burst through the doors and soon more bullets exploded from their fancy guns, each tiny piece of lead intending to maim the devious duo.

Weaving among the bullets, the Hitachiin brothers only reaction was to smile.

Turning the corner they found the stairs to the next floor blocked by the guards that were firing at them so adamantly. Without breaking stride, Kaoru ducked down allowing Hikaru to step onto his back and spring towards the guards,

Sailing through the air, body outstretched, Hikaru flew over the raging trail of bullets. Plunging both knives into the shoulders of the two guards in the front of the pack, he pushed them down the stairs with his nimble legs, yanking the knives out in the process.

As the two guards flopped down the stairs, Hikaru stepped quickly over the bulky mass of guards. Landing out the door and behind the group, Hikaru turned and snapped a front kick at the crowd.

Kaoru skipped up the stairs, bouncing off the tumbling bodies that rolled like forgotten barrels pouring out of a speeding wagon during a highway robbery. Soon he joined his brother. Sparing a glance at the pile of bruised guards who were spitting out a colorful variety of curses the twins broke out in a laugh.

Moving away from the door they found themselves in a long hallway. On the sides of the hallway were various doors with names and numbers neatly depicted with plastic font and one elevator located at one end.

"It's been a while since we could let loose like this, hasn't it?" Kaoru remarked, taking a pause in his laughter.

"Indeed Kaoru. I had almost forgotten how fun it was."

The floor that they now sprinted down was mostly empty. Traces of a hasty evacuation were present as there were papers and files littered across the floor.

However the evacuation did not include the security guards who stood at the end of the hallway. Behind their bodies stood the silver doors of the elevator.

Structuring themselves like the firing squads of days long forgotten they proceeded to fire their guns at the twins.

Rolling across the floor they tumbled into the open doorway of a nearby room.

Shutting the wooden door they squatted in the close to the wall, out of sight from the windows.

"Security guards are just no fun these days are they?" Hikaru noted.

Kaoru sighed in compliance with the disappointment their shared.

"It's always the same routine with them. Take out their guns and shoot. You'd think they'd do something more original."

"Well, you know what we have to do, don't you Hikaru?"

"Indeed. When things get boring, make them exciting. Do you have a plan Kaoru?"

Kaoru smiled. "Don't I always?" Placing his identical combat knives away, he dug into the right pocket of his jeans and produced two tiny round grenades.

"I like how you think Kaoru." Hikaru plucked the weapons out of Kaoru's hand.

By now the guards hand split their numbers up. As a few guards remained stationed by the elevator, a small group of five approached their closed room warily.

As their footsteps drew nearer, the twins resumed their mission.

The wooden door splintered and cracked easily under the combined weight of the two as they smashed through the flimsy obstacle and out of the room.

Shifting his weight Kaoru ended his maneuver in front of the group as Hikaru rolled onto his feet next to the wall.

With six miniature throwing knives clutched between his fingers, with three on each hand, Kaoru launched the blades, catching the guards off guard. With two blades reserved for the gun hand and shoulder of the guard closest to him, the remaining four struck the four guards bringing up the rear of the group.

Four guns clacked to the floor.

With a sweeping kick one stumbling guard with two knives stuck in him shortly followed.

As Kaoru contended with the remaining four guards, Hikaru confronted the group that played sentry to the elevator entrance.

With but five feet distance between the two conflicting parties, Hikaru tossed one of the grenades.

Instinctively the guards scattered as the fruit shaped object exploded. Upon its explosion, tiny rubber balls exploded from the Stinger grenade, rattling the guards.

Running past the tiny haze that resulted from the explosion Hikaru punched the elevator button anticipating calmly as the glowing number went from the eighth floor down to their fourth floor.

A musical ding sounded and the doors separated as Hikaru entered the tiny compartment, smiling gleefully as Kaoru joined him quickly.

Pressing the button for the thirteenth floor they smiled at the guards who were sprawled all over the floor their clutching their bodies at the ringing pain that assailed them.

"Well guys it's been fun. Here's a gift to show you our gratitude."

As the door started to close gently, Hikaru flung the other grenade in his hand through the hole between the doors.

A rewarding explosion greeted their ears not several moments later.

"How many grenades do you have left, Kaoru?"

"Three" Kaoru noted as he searched his left jean pocket as well as the pockets of his jacket.

"Alright. How about we have some more fun, Kaoru?"

With a resounding slap, Hikaru punched in the buttons for the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth floors accordingly.

Hikaru didn't have to look at Kaoru's face to know he was smiling as well.

Grabbing one of the grenades from Kaoru, Hikaru waited until they were on the tenth floor.

As the door opened Hikaru tossed a grenade out and pressed the button that closed the doors. Right into the surprised circle of guards.

And then he repeated the gesture for the eleventh and twelfth floor, all the while laughing with his brother.

"Did you see the expression on those guard's faces when they saw us?"

"Classical Hikaru. The perfect way to have some extra fun before we deal with our target."

The thirteenth floor was constructed rather differently than the rest of the previous floors. While it did indeed feature yet another long hallway, this one was bare of any room, save for the one located at the end of the hallway, directly across from the elevator.

The twins stopped to examine the design.

"Kind of makes you feel like a prisoner taking the long walk to his execution, doesn't it Hikaru?"

"Or a hero about to brave the dangers of the final boss."

Breaking into a full on run as they brushed against the single door with the weight of their right sides.

The door snapped off its hinges as the momentum of their run brought them into a tumbling roll that turned them onto their feet.

However, the room was empty.

Nothing more than a large wooden desk, chairs, several bookshelves, and a gigantic glass window that took up an entire wall, as well as various other obstructs that were quite fitting of such a business office.

But there were no guards with their guns trained on them, and their target was certainly not in sight.

"Hmmm, if I was a scared little Yakuza boss trying to hide from some dangerous killers, where would I be?"

"Where indeed Kaoru?"

They both walked towards the closet located close to the right side of the desk.

The door was predictably locked, nothing that the twins could deal with. Upon shattering the door, to their delighted surprise there was a long ascending stairwell on the other side.

A strange sound buffeted against the wooden door at the top of the stairs, a sound that the twins recognized rather quickly.

A helicopter.

Taking the stairs two or three steps at a time they bounded up to the roof.

Opening the door, the narrow gray walls suddenly expanded into bright surroundings. The lights of the city illuminated the rooftop, overthrowing the stars and moon. Long slender buildings and the night sky trapped the twin's vision from all around as the evening wind greeted them with loving caresses.

A large helicopter was parked on a landing pad as their target scrambled to get inside. Several guards were spread out in front of the helicopter, ready for the twins that had stumbled onto the rooftop.

Right in the sight of the guns.

In an instant the guns–machine guns now–were let loose. A flurry of bullets traveled in the twin's direction, death laced with each tiny piece of lead.

The twins tensed, their legs poised to tumble out of the way.

But it was already too late.

The twins' bodies jerked and twitched erratically under the gun fire before they crumpled to the floor.

Motionless. Bodies lifeless and still.

And from the helicopter, Kenji paused, before stepping back down onto the roof.

Dressed in a pinstriped suit of a dull gray color, Maki Kenji was best described as a businessman, both in dress and mannerism. His black hair was neat, short and well fashioned so that his broad face was well displayed. Thin rigid eyes, a stony chin, and a steep slope of his cheekbones made him to be older than he really was.

However, whereas Kenji was displayed to be stoic and smooth in any situation, this Kenji had an uncharacteristic tightness in his frame. His fingers were clenched into fists, his neatly trimmed nails digging into his skin. His arms were locked in position at his sides and his jaw was shut, his neck tight.

Leaning close to one of his guards, he managed a hesitant whisper through tight lips. "Are they dead?"

"They should be." The guard glanced at two of his men, motioning them to check on the corpses.

Nodding in compliance, the two walked confidently towards the two still bodies.

There was no way they could have survives that many bullets hitting their bodies.

Right?

Peering over the bodies, they checked for clear signs of death.

Sprawled among several bullet cartridges the clothes of these two men were torn and shredded, ruining their outfits completely.

But that was to be expected.

However, it was the unexpected that surprised the guards.

There was no blood.

And their masks, where the men were positive to have hit, were smooth, clean of any fractures or dents.

As if the bullets never hit them at all.

In alarm, the men brought forth their guns, and the Hitachiin twins reacted to their panic.

Lifting their right foots, they slammed them back down on the floor.

Thin blades popped out from the tip of their boots.

Kicking up, the twins aimed their kicks high into the inner thighs of the men, an uncomfortable distance inwards.

As the men screamed, fearing for the loss of their precious organs, the twins removed the blades, a quick tap against the floor to retract them.

Rolling into an upright position, they ran towards their target, pushing the disorientated men in the process. These men were to be used them as temporary shields before they quickly cast them aside, blunt blows with their knife handles to subdue them.

Kenji, quickly leapt back into the helicopter shrieking loudly at the pilot to fly away. All of his carefully compacted composure was gone, pouring out his body as the fear broke his image, the charging twins scaring him into a frenzy.

Gun fire sprung about around the twins. Completely parallel to one another, the twins leapt for the closest guards. One knife stabbed the wrist, the other, the shoulder.

Using these men as new shields the twins charged the guards. Once they brushed past the protective barrier, they turned and shoved the guards against their comrades causing them to tumble over.

Kaoru took the head start from brother and stopped just short of the roof's edge. Bending his knees he placed his hands together as he watched the helicopter wobble into the air.

Into Kaoru's open hands Hikaru went. One foot got a good hold of his brother's hands as the combined effort of the twins propelled the teenager into the air.

Arms extended outwards, Hikaru snatched the rails of the retreating helicopter. Quickly switching his hands he turned his body around so he faced away from the helicopter.

Swinging back and forth, he easily swung into the cockpit. In the helicopter were three men, the pilot, Kenji, and a large gorilla like man with a gun.

Turning around, his blades flashing in the process, Hikaru plunged them into the man's wrists, stapling them deep into the man's thighs.

Keeping them secure, Hikaru grabbed the frightened Kenji by the neck collar. Kenji began to splutter terrified phrases at Hikaru, all the while weeping and groaning. Hikaru nodded his head soothingly at him, as if he understood the man's gibberish.

And then he threw him out of the helicopter.

His mouth wide open, a scream threaded itself out of his throat as Kenji flew past the building and down into the streets below.

The deathly wail was still fresh in Hikaru's mind as he turned toward the pilot, who jolted briefly at the new attention.

Giving the scared pilot a mock salute, Hikaru freed his blades from their bloody locations and leapt out of the helicopter.

Arms spread wide Hikaru reveled in the rushing feeling that consumed him.

He was flying.

Joy and danger spun and thudded around in his heart as he screamed out an overjoyed yell.

And then waiting arms of Kaoru securely caught him.

Around Kaoru's feet were the rest of the guards. Though they were clearly consciousness, they were unable to pick up their weapons, as their profusely bleeding wrists and hands made it difficult to do so.

Hikaru glanced at the men briefly.

"Nice work." Hikaru patted his brother's back.

"I'd say the same for you. I see you tried something different this time?'

"Come on, I'm not heartless. I wanted him to experience the thrill of flying. Pity he was ungrateful about it."

The twins broke out in laughter at that statement, a deep euphoric laughter that bubbled and flowed like the waters of a fresh spring.

The whiny wail of police sirens caught their ears and ended their fun. "Time to go." They both said as they headed towards the back of the building.

Faster and faster their legs build up speed.

And, like devils leaping eagerly back into the flames of hell, the twins dashed for the roof's edge and jumped.

Knives gripped tightly in their hands they vanished over the edge, their loud childish laughter trailing behind them.


	8. Chapter 7

**Black Roses**

**By Wolfic**

**Chapter 7**

There was a sea of faces wherever he looked.

From the left and to the right, behind and in front of him, faces passed him by.

Youthful babyish faces mixed with the mature faces as beautiful and ugly swirled. Styles and fashions muddled together among flashy bright colors of hair dyes to the dark dull hues of leathers.

It was onto this street choked by the tides of youth that Kyoya went, a rough tug to ensure that his friend, who still pined for Haruhi, followed.

Slipping among the tiny slivers in the crowd, Kyoya pushed his way up the narrow street.

It at the top of the street, boxed with all the other stores, was a building.

It was in front of this building that a small section was sanctioned off by rope and a small meager line was allowed to be formed.

A line full of youths all very eager and excited.

Facing the line from the front was the bouncer. Though he was not a man of huge muscular standing, as most bouncers tend to be made out to be, he carried with him his own form of authority, a menacing gun-shaped bulge beneath his jacket.

In his hands was a clipboard, of which he crossed off names of guests who had shown up.

The building at which this thin line had weaved itself, was clunky and boxlike, not unlike that of a small warehouse. Built of dull gray bricks and grimy four paned windows, there was no sign constructed to give a name to this dull building.

And despite its dreariness, life poured from within, seeping from the tiny cracks and fissures of the building.

Bright spectral colors flashed and flared, extending their fingerlike beams through the windows, basking everyone with their exotic glow.

Music, loud and energetic, thudded against the building, seemingly shaking its very foundation and beating against the hearts of those close by.

This music had no lyrics. It didn't need any.

Euphoric and pervasive, the music wormed its way into their ears, building on their childish excitement.

Among the crowd who was not specially selected to enter this amusement, Tamaki looked at Kyoya with confusion. "So Mommy, what do you have planned for us?"

"We should discuss here." Kyoya tilted his head towards the right side of the building, which curved off into a narrow alleyway. Shadows danced and writhed with every flash of light that pounded that contained space.

Kyoya took the lead as he separated from the moving masses and walked straight towards the line that was formed.

The people in line tensed at his approach, ready to fight for their spot.

But he ignored them completely as he passed through an open hole in the line.

Once he moved past them, they relaxed, relieved that he wasn't about to challenge their place in line.

As Tamaki followed meagerly behind Kyoya, he did not notice Kyoya's swift hands, which deliberately dropped an item onto the floor.

A slender leather wallet, most likely crafted of the genuine material.

Making their way well into the dark shroud of the poorly lit alleyway, Kyoya avoided trashcans and dumpsters as he walked till the end of the alleyway, blocked off by a rusted chained fence.

Tamaki looked at him expectantly, his uncertainty visible despite the poor illumination.

"Our method of execution shall be simple." Kyoya begun, "Did you bring a handkerchief with you?"

"Yes. I have two." Tamaki turned both sides of his jacket to reveal the inner folds, where several pockets were worked into the lining.

Eight pockets were on the inner sides, four on each side, placed in a vertical order, from top to bottom.

In the top pockets, the triangular edges of neatly folded silk handkerchiefs were slightly visible. The rest of the stuffed pockets below held roses.

Small, dainty black roses.

Kyoya nodded his head in approval. "Hand me the nonlethal one."

Carefully, Tamaki extracted the silk cloth, a pleasant caramel brown color, from his right pocket and held it over to Kyoya.

Placing the handkerchief in his pocket, Kyoya continued his instructions. "We shall split up once we make our way inside the building. I shall focus my efforts on drawing the target's attention. While I am doing so, you shall blend in with the crowd. Wait until I am conversing with the target before you approach."

"You're going to be the bait?" Tamaki's shimmering eyes widened. "Mother, are you sure that's wise? Will you be alright with this level of participation?"

Kyoya smiled. "I'll be fine, Tamaki. Regardless of my lack of abilities in this line of work, it is still perhaps best if I take the role. I don't believe you'll be able to pull off the act as bait."

"And just what do you intend to–"

A large trashcan fell over, spilling its mushy contents of leftover foodstuffs and plastic containers onto the dirty floor.

Three young teens, arrogance in their stride, boldly approached the two.

The one at the head of the pack was rather slim, and wore a ratty yellow jacket and scuffed jeans. His hair was a mess of spiky pale hair and he wore an excited grin on his face.

"Well hello there! How are ya?" His tongue snaked out to lick his chapped lips, the small flash of pink revealed a metal stud on pierced through the tip. "Pleasant evenin' we be havin'. Too pleasant for you two ta be hidin' in an alleyway."

Kyoya smiled. "Don't mind us two. We were just patiently waiting for the line to shorten before we entered the club."

The teen laughed at the statement. His laughter was a high pitched one that seemed too maniacal for such a young person. "You wanna get in there?" A small thumb jabbed at the brick building. "Do ya have any idea how hard it iz ta get yer name on the VIP list?"

Kyoya smile did not falter, it only lengthened. "Judging by your voice, I take it that you're all on that list?"

"Of course. We gots some us friends with friends who have all the right connections. We're all guaranteed."

The teen took a couple steps closer, the friendliness on his face shifted away.

"But now that the small talk's outta the way, I just wanted ta say that you dropped something over there by the line" He revealed Kyoya's wallet from his pocket. "And bein' the Good Samaritan that I am, I thought it'd be best if I return it."

He made no move towards Kyoya. He simply played with the wallet in his hands. Flipping it around and around.

"But who would've guessed that you'd be loaded." He stuffed the wallet back into his pocket. "It sure iz strange how some teen like you could possibly be packin' so much dough. But we figured if you had this much, then your friend might as well. So I'd be suggestin' that ya hand over his wallet."

A blade flashed in the dimly lit alleyway, its hilt dangled lazily in the man's fingers.

"Now."

Kyoya turned his pleasant grin towards Tamaki. "I suggest we follow this kind man's orders."

Tamaki visibly nodded his head.

"You," The teen pointed the blade on Kyoya. "You come over here and be quiet."

Kyoya wordlessly complied as he took his position next to the teen.

The teen now turned his attention upon Tamaki. "Get your wallet out and toss it over."

"But I don't have my wallet." Tamaki protested, turning his pockets out to prove his point.

Without missing a beat, the teen glared. "I don't believe ya." He turned to his friends. "Frisk him." He jerked his head at Tamaki, as the two came around.

These two were both taller and bulkier than the teen, with the one on the right bearing a hair of neon rainbow colors, while the one on the left had multiple piercings working their way from one ear and across his face to the other.

The two quickly swarmed Tamaki and roughly yanked his jacket open, revealing his inner pockets. A profound silence passed as the three stared at the sight of roses dangling from the inside of his pockets.

And then they began to laugh, with the teen starting with his high pitched shrieks. Rainbow Hair contributing his deep throaty chuckles and Metal Face gave in quick bursts of snorts and rumbling laughter.

"Roses?" The teen managed, sputtering between his giggles. "You're walking around here carryin' roses? What are ya, some tree-hugging pansy? Hey guys, I think we gots ourselves a faker. Some poor poser who wants ta hang with the cool kids."

The other two next to Tamaki only laughed harder, their backs arching over with their laughter.

Tamaki only looked confused. "Why wouldn't I be caring flowers to a social event?" He innocently asked. "They are for the ladies."

The teen turned his amused face towards Kyoya. "Oh my god, where did ya get this guy?"

Plucking two roses from the second row of pockets, Tamaki twirled them softly in his delicate hands.

"But aren't these just lovely? Don't they just smell so fresh?" Before the two could object, he placed the petals right into their noses, letting the fragrance of the flowers penetrate their senses.

They quickly reeled back in disgust.

"What the hell?" Rainbow Hair spat.

"We ain't flowery hippies ya know. Don't go rubbin–" Metal Face jaws suddenly snapped during his rant.

A small twitch, though unnoticeable at first, began to form in his jaw, the tiny tremors spreading across his face, his metal piercings jangling with the movement.

Rainbow Hair was not so well off either. His arms had started flailed, though small waves at first, they soon increased as the convulsions in his body widened, causing his knees to buckle.

Eyes trembling wide, the darkness in their pupils began to spread, dilating unevenly from eye to eye.

From their thin lips bubbles formed, fizzling into a disgusting froth as the two fell to the floor, the spasms in their bodies now, slowly lessening.

The teen looked on with a surprise in his features. His jaw was open, his eyes were wide, and his hands were loose, dropping the knife in his alarm.

"The hel–"

Kyoya grabbed the surprised teen from behind and placed the handkerchief over his face, pressing the smooth fabric into the teen's nostrils, smearing the inside of the fabric against the youth's face.

At first the teen flailed at the sudden movement, but his protests did not last long as his movements grew sluggish. His arms fell to his sides, dangling loosely as his knee snapped forward.

He collapsed onto the dirty pavement.

Folding up the handkerchief, Kyoya placed it back into his pocket. He gave the two teens laying by Tamaki's feet a calculative look.

"Laburnum?" He questioned.

"Yes." Tamaki affirmed, somewhat sadly. "A quick acting dose."

"Very good. Now let's get the identification from those two."

"These two?"

"It's best if we leave this group's leader's identification intact. Chances are those two are mostly likely lesser known with the club and thus it'll be easier to avoid attention."

From the Rainbow Hair's and Metal Face's wallets, Tamaki produced two ids, one of which he handed over to Kyoya.

The picture on the plastic card showed a young teen with long black hair tied into a ponytail. With his thin face and noticeable features, this was clearly a picture of Rainbow Hair, without the aforementioned rainbows in his hair. The name read "Takenaka Jiro."

Having committed the name to memory Kyoya glanced over at Tamaki, who was busy comparing the picture on his id to Metal Face, most likely surprised at the differences between the two images as well.

"Have you memorized the name?"

"Yes, I'm Tanaka Gin. And you are?"

"Takenaka Jiro"

Hiding the pilfered ids in their pockets, the two left the alleyway, Kyoya was pleased to see that the line had lessened considerably and took his place at the end of the short line.

When their turn with the bouncer came, the man didn't bother to look up from his clipboard.

"Name?" he gruffly asked.

"Takenaka Jiro." Kyoya said with ease.

"Tanaka Gin." While Tamaki's voice was just as casual, his face was tensed.

Crossing the names off the list the bouncer carelessly motioned them with an arm towards the door.

"They didn't even check our ids." Tamaki whispered to Kyoya as they walked from the line.

"Maki Ken was never a cautious man. As long as your name is on the list, you're allowed inside."

Pushing the battered red door with its chipped frame the two shoved their way inside, and stumbled onto what could only be described as a strange world.

There were people everywhere.

Against the tables and chairs, the bar, the walls and each other, bodies upon bodies danced against each other, swaying to the music.

The music was even louder now to the two, with their direct exposure to it.

It was so loud that their entire bodies could hear it. Vibrations raced through their bodies.

Kyoya nodded at Tamaki as they split up.

Tamaki uncomfortably made his way through the flailing bodies, feeling different body parts rub against his own with reckless abandon.

With some extended effort, he managed to make it to the bar and the series of chairs and tables off to the side.

Taking an empty chair, he nodded his head to the music as he watched Kyoya easily swim through the bodies.

Letting the wild bodies guide him, Kyoya made his way to the wide open space formed in the middle of the club, a makeshift stage for the daring who wished to show off their repertoire of techniques.

Upon his sudden entry into the empty circle, Kyoya could feel the curious eyes of the crowd circle him. Their movements slowed considerably as they waited for Kyoya.

The eyes were ready. Ready to judge this stranger who felt he was worthy to compete.

With so many expectant gazes on him, Kyoya smiled, clearly pleased with the attention.

Things were going just the way he wanted.

The enthused DJ, picked up a new black record and with it, a new song.

Kyoya waited as the first few melodies trickled out.

And with the first loud stomp of a beat, he began to dance.

If that's what it could be called.

Truthfully, Kyoya didn't have a name for what he was doing. There weren't any techniques or though placed into his motions.

He was simply moving in tune to the music.

Every gesture, every movement of his body, moved with the music, forming a strange dance of his own.

His hands, slender and pale, traced his body. The tips barely teased his pale chest, before they started to run themselves around his chest before sliding down his thin stomach.

His hips gyrated, twisted and swirled, his pants pulling tight against his legs.

He wasn't just dancing; he was putting himself on display.

He was a stature, a work of art, something to be admired.

And as he had predicted, the women were entranced.

They wasted no time in swarming him, sidling up to him with their lithe bodies.

Kyoya eagerly accepted them, feeling their bodies collide and rub against him.

More females moved, eager to see this dancer with his seductive motions.

He kept up the act, moving from eager partner to partner as he hosted this clients of his attention.

And then, as he was moving against an attractive women with bleached platinum blond hair, he heard a voice against his ear.

"You have a rather unique style of dancing."

The voice was just audible enough so that it did not get swept away by the music.

Kyoya turned against the many bodies to the sight of Maki Ken, a young adult dressed prim and proper in a casual suit. A diamond stud sparkled in his right ear lobe and gold rings, plain and nondescript, glowed on his fingers. On his arms were several attractive women.

Kyoya bowed slightly, even with the women against him.

"Thank you for your compliments, Maki-san."

The ladies, realizing that the club's owner was there, moved so the two men could converse.

"You don't have to be so prude about it." Ken laughed. "Just call me Ken."

"Ken it is then." Kyoya's concealed eyes were far from his target, and rather traced Tamaki.

Tamaki had already left his post at the chairs and made his way back into the crowd, stopping to swipe a drink from one of the tables.

With it held above his head, Tamaki plowed through the crowd.

"My name is Takenaka Jiro" Kyoya gave a small bow.

Ken looked thoughtful for a bit his face scrunched as he tried to find something in his mind. But he stopped and gave an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I've ever heard of you. Are you new to this place?"

"Yes I am. I've been hearing about this place from my friends for a long time, so I decided I'd come and see what it was like."

Ken smiled. "I'm glad you could make the effort to join us. So what do you think? Isn't this grand party?"

At that moment Tamaki stumbled, deliberately, upon them.

As his body dropped to the floor, the contents of his thin wine glass emptied onto Ken's head, the liquid trailing onto his designer clothes.

Tamaki quickly scrambled himself together, avoiding legs as he tried to stand.

At that moment Ken turned on him.

And smiled.

The gentle smile caught Tamaki off guard, as he stopped his exaggerative motions.

"Are you alright?" Ken extended his right hand, his voice cordial and friendly.

Gingerly, Tamaki accepted the hand, which firmly pulled him from the floor.

Righting himself, Tamaki gave a full bodied bow, as much as the tight space could allow.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to slip like that. If you want I can pay for the damages."

Ken grinned goodheartedly. "Don't worry about it. We all make mistakes." Ken licked his lips picking up the droplets of the drink. "Hey, this is some good stuff. What is it?"

Tamaki looked uncomfortable. "I'm not sure. I just sort of grabbed it."

"You're a daring man, trying new things out like that. Not many are as brave as you. Say, you got something I could wipe my face off with? Hate to have people think I'm some drunk who can't even tell where my mouth is."

Tamaki jolted at the request. His fingers trembled as he slowly touched the leather of his jacket. His fingers seemed uncertain with what he was doing.

He didn't move any further from there. With his hand frozen at his jacket, he simply stared at Ken. His eyes were now sad, and troubled.

Ken looked worried. "You all right? You seemed shaken up by something. Do you not have something for me to wipe my face with? It's fine if you don't."

"Here." Kyoya's long arm extended towards Ken, a white folded handkerchief in his hands. "Use this."

"Thanks." Ken took the handkerchief and began to wipe his face, unable to see Tamaki's distraught face.

"I'm sorry about my friend here." Kyoya apologized. "I didn't know he had wandered off when we first arrived together. You see, he's from the country. He's wanted to come here for some time, and now that he is finally here, well, I guess he's a bit overwhelmed."

"Don't worry about it." Ken gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "We all get uncomfortable with new locations. Anyways, thanks for the handkerchief. I'll be sure to wash it and return it to you. You got a location I can find you at?"

"Just keep it. It's just a tiny piece of cloth." Kyoya noticed Tamaki hadn't moved from his position. His feet were still planted together, his hand clutching his jacket tightly, the material crinkling under his grip. "I think it's probably best if I take my friend back home."

Kyoya brushed past Ken towards Tamaki.

"I'm sorry to hear that. The party has barely begun." Ken extended a hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Jiro-kun."

Kyoya shook the hand eagerly. "Same here."

Turning away from his target, Kyoya grabbed Tamaki's knotted shoulders and pulled him through the crowd.

Despite the rough treatment, Tamaki did not speak.

He could only look at Kyoya strangely, as if he wasn't it was his friend he was seeing before him.

When Kyoya dragged him forcefully through the multiple bodies he did not stir or complain.

When they were back outside and Kyoya pushed him down the crowded streets once more, he continued to stare.

And when they made their way to the parked limousine located a few blocks away from the club, Tamaki had yet to return to bright and merry self.

Once inside the limousine, Tamaki curled up in the corner, and chose to lean his head against the window. He was clearly oblivious to the rest of the members of the car, who were surprised by this sudden behavior.

Even Haruhi, who was in the car, didn't move him with her voice.

Honey and Mori could do no better to rouse this troubled teen.

Tamaki remained that way for the entire trip back home.

**A/N: **

**Jiro means "Second son," though "iro" is also the word for "color."**

**Kin means "Gold."**

**Takenaka means "dweller in the middle of bamboo."**

**Tanaka means "dweller in the middle of rice fields."**


End file.
